


Teenage Stanley Uris x Reader Imagines/One-Shots

by harurisons



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:27:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 46,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21884497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harurisons/pseuds/harurisons
Summary: A collection of my own Stanley Uris writings that I originally posted on Tumblr first. Warnings apply to each chapter differently, but msot are fluffy writings. Enjoy :)
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Beverly Marsh/Reader, Bill Denbrough/Reader, Eddie Kaspbrak/Reader, Mike Hanlon/Reader, Richie Tozier/Reader, Stanley Uris/Reader
Kudos: 62





	1. Ask Me Why

Plot: Stanley Uris and Reader were childhood sweethearts, but after moving away from Derry and because of its magic, they forget about each other. Reader comes back, Stanley Uris doesn't. Horrors that await her after 27 years of running from them she will have to face alone now, without her sweetheart.

“The bathtub.” Beverly says into the phone before Patty can. Beverly realises that what she saw twenty seven years ago had happened. What a tragedy. She thinks of how Patty feels and then glances over at Y/N, who waits for Bev to end the call and tell everyone what Patty said. How ever will she tell her? It’ll break her heart, it will break the girl herself. “Patty, I’m so sorry, honey. You can call anytime, alright?”

“I’m sorry, I have to go.” Patty tells Beverly and hangs up. Beverly puts her phone in her pocket and turns to her friends. All their faces awaiting, impatient and nervous of what she might say. Is it true what the fortune cookies told them or is IT playing tricks on them? 

“Stanley’s gone. In–In the bathtub. There’s blood everywhere, Patty said.” Beverly says, but she’s looking at Y/N while she’s talking. Her face falls. Her eyes empty in a second, looking hollow and abundant. Everyone gasps and mutters words of shock and disbelief. In her ears, everything fades out and she can only hear his voice. Stanley.

“Let’s go swimming.” He turns to her with the biggest smile. She tilts her head to one side. “I won’t scare you, I promise.” Stan raises his arms up in mock defense. She sighs.

“Okay, fine.” Y/N agrees and raises to her feet. The pair lock hands, taking steps towards the lake, skipping here and there. They’re both smiling at each other. Y/N leans towads Stanley’s shoulder with her head, resting it there and humming. 

He didn’t scare her in the water for the first time. He usually tells her there’s something big underwater and when she looks under to see if there is indeed something, Stan would grab her thighs and she’d scream. No more of that, he said to himself after Y/N told him she’s starting to get scared of the water.

She feels her heart being crunched up by someone’s hand. Fate, it could be. But it’s IT. IT is responsible for this. For all of this. 

Her lungs collapse, too. Y/N feels like she can’t take breaths anymore, like she never will. Feels like her lungs have closed down, stopped working. Like they’re filled with water or something even heavier. Like there’s never going to be air in her lungs, like they’re filled to the brim. Never possible of saving.

She opens her mouth to try and breathe, but she’s hiccuping, coughing almost. 

Stanley. Stanley Uris. Her Stanley. 

The most beautiful boy she’s ever layed her eyes on in her whole life. Anyone she saw as a person of potential interest in her so-far life was lacking something, she realises now. One thing. They weren’t him.

His radiant smile that made her smile when she didn’t feel like ever smiling again, when she had forgot how to. Lightened up the room and shone like the sun. Made her feel like there was nothing bad in the world. 

His voice. The boy could sing, but only she knew that. He never sang in front of anyone else, none of his friends. Only her. And she loved it.

He thought he was bad at singing but God, did he sound like an angel. He was very insecure about it, that’s all.

“Sing what you want to. I wanna hear it, whatever the song!” She beamed, resting her head in her hands, her elbows on Stanley’s desk surface. Stanley sighs, sitting in a chair not so far from her and his desk. He looks down, lip bitten, deep in choosing the song he could sing. 

“Okay, okay,” he says, lifting his head and breathing deeply in and out, preparing himself, “but don’t laugh.” Stan points a finger at Y/N. She shakes her head.

“I would never, baby.” She says. “Go ahead.”

Stan takes a breath in and out and, after a few more seconds, starts finally singing. “I love you, whoo-hoo-whoo-hoo, cause you tell me things I want to know,” He sings. He doesn’t look Y/N in the eyes as he sings, he focuses on one of the furniture facing him. He’s so shy about it, “and it’s true, whoo-hoo-whoo-hoo, that it really only goes to show…

“That I know, that I, I, I, I should never, never, never be blue-ooh!” He hits the highnote perfectly. “Now you’re mine, my happiness still makes me cry. And in time you’ll understand the reason why if I cry, it’s not because I’m sad. 

“But you’re the only love that I’ve ever had.” He looks at her at once. Because he means the words, wants to sing them to her, wants to tell her those words. They’re true. 

Y/N smiles wide, happy tears in the corners of her eyes. Stanley smiles wide and rushes over to her. He kneels before her and his face is mischievous, up to something.

“I can’t believe,” he resumes singing, a theatrical facial expression on his features, which makes Y/N giggle, “it’s happened to me. I can’t concieve of anymore,” he extends his arm in the air, “mi-se-ry!” He exclaims, a mock-brave and determined look on his face. As if he was playing Superman, who’s flying through the air after saving a particular girl form danger. 

Y/N giggles histerically, looking at Stanley and holding his other hand. He drops the act and leans closer into her face. Not too close, not that intimate. At least not yet.

“Ask me why,” he sings quieter, “I’ll say I love you,” with each verse, he gets closer and closer, keeping their eyes locked on each other, “and I’m always thinking of you…” Stan drifts off and kisses her on the lips tenderly, sweetly. Just like he sang a second ago. 

Her knees buckle in, her feet give out. Gravity or rather, horrible pain and grief, takes over her completely and she’s falling down to the ground. In the street, between her friends. All of them immediately get closer to her, huddle around her. 

They see the terrifying look on her face. It’s everything mixed. Pain, memories, grief, terror, fear, anger, longing… It’s all in there, in her wide, wide, as-big-as-buttons eyes. Mouth agape. She looks just like a person having a stroke would look. And her friends are actually scared that she is having one.

“Y/N!” Beverly calls to her, hoping to get her out of this horrid and scary trance. Ben pushes Y/N in a sitting position from behind so she wouldn’t be laying on the wet, dirty ground of the Derry street. 

She gasps and hiccups and tries to regain control over her body and brain. But her mind can’t help but go back to the best memories of her childhood. And her body is completely out of order, out of anyone’s control. Her friends try to shake her, bring her back to them pysically first. 

The only thing they get from her before Y/N completely shuts down, is one word. “Stanley.” It’s a quiet whisper that they barely heard. It was like a mutter between her lips, something meant for only her to hear. 

Her wide eyes close instantly and her mouth, too. She’s limp in Ben’s and Beverly’s arms. “No! Y/N!” She exclaims, afraid something serious has happened to her. Some sort of internal, physical damage. But she’s having a very pleasant dream, unconscious to her friends.

“Let’s see that!” Stanley takes her sketchbook from her, making Y/N gasp and pry after her book, her pencil still in hand. 

“I’m not finished!” She exclaims, but it’s no use. Everyone’s huddled around Stanley holding her sketchbook and already looking at the new drawing she really has not finished yet.

“Oh my God, that is so pretty!” Beverly says.

“I’m the prettiest one, of course, thank you, Y/N.” Richie boasts. 

“Then I shall draw your horrible witch nose bigger, Rich!” She says and the kids both stick their tongues at each other, mean faces showing. Y/N comes closer to Stan holding the book.

Everyone’s gasping and pointing at themselves in the artwork, saying how alike the drawing is to real life. And though Y/N loves the compliments and thanks them, she really needs to finish the piece so that it could be even more prettier and perfect.

She puts her hand firmly on the sketchbook and pulls it towards herself. Stanley looks at her with his delinquent famous smile and holds the book tight in his hands.

“Give it back, I need to finish it.” She requests. Stan takes the book closer to his chest. 

“What will I have for that?” He bargains and she narrows her eyes at the boy. 

“If you give it back,” she starts, “I’ll give you the whole book. For your own exploitation.”

“Come on! We’re hoping for something more enticing, Y/N!” Richie cries and Eddie hits his arm, despite snickering. 

“What about a kiss?” Stan suggests and Y/N lets herself smile at him. She throws herself at him, kissing him hard on the lips as they both smile wicked smiles. 

“Ew!” Everyone exclaims upon the action and turns away from the couple. 

“Guys, they’re so cute.” Beverly cheers, but everyone boos her, already finding new things to do. Beverly laughs to herself and turns back to her book in the hammock. 

Stanley and Y/N pull apart, smiling and looking at each other with heart eyes and looks of pure gratitude and appreciation. Though their friends exclaim in disgust whenever the two show a bit of affection towards each other, they really love them and can’t help wishing for the same kind of love in their lives. They’re happy for the most loving best friends in their group, very happy.

“Guys, she’s waking up!” Eddie calls out to his friends once he sees Y/N opening her eyes slowly. He hopes she’s really waking up, not just a flutter of the eyelids in-between dreams or nightmares. Richie, Bill, Mike, Beverly and Ben come up to the hotel’s lounge sofa where Y/N is laying, now conscious. 

“Hey, honey,” Beverly tries to smile at her. She takes Y/N’s hands between her own, “how are you feeling?” She asks.

“I would love not to answer that question.” Y/N says and sits up. Her friends sigh, somehow relieved by her answer and her healthy look. “How long was I—how long ago—” She can’t seem to form the question she wants to ask.

“A couple hours.” Eddie answers her un-finished question. “Do you need some Advil or Morphine?” He questions. Y/N furrows her eyebrows at the man. 

“No, thanks.” She says. “So, what are we doing, what’s our plan?”

“Well, since Beverly has seen us all die,” Richie starts to say, oblivious that his words might trigger tears and intense emotions in Y/N. Unwantedly, tears start dripping down onto her sweater and jeans in hot streams, “we need to kill the stupid clown this time. Otherwise, we’ll die. Just how Bev’s seen us die.”

Y/N sobs, pulling her knees to her chest and letting it all out. She sobs and she cries and she hiccups and she wails, heartbreaking sounds for her friends’ ears. 

“I don’t care.” She cries. “I don’t care. I’ll die, then. I don’t care.” She shakes her head, repeating the phrases over and over.

“Well, that was my plan.” Richie admits. 

“We can’t let you die, Y/N.” Ben tells her. But she doesn’t listen. She doesn’t want to hear support or any positive comments from anyone now.

“Listen, Y/N/N,” Mike starts to say, sitting closer to her, “there is a way to kill him. For real this time.” This is what makes her look at Mike, or look at anyone, really. He’s caught her attention. Is it true?

“Trust us, Y/N. W-W-We can end IT he-here and n-now.” Bill joins in. She looks at him, she looks at Beverly, she looks at Ben, and Richie and Eddie. They’re all nodding. Quite sure that there really is a way for them to get rid of this horrid creature that’s ruined so many lives. Finally do it. And they get to do it. 

No one will know it if they do, no one will congratulate them and put crowns on their heads and give them flowers. But it doesn’t matter. They’ll be heroes to themselves and to the people who have lost everything because of this stupid killer clown. If they succeed and don’t die in the process.

The whole point was to find an artifact from your childhood here. It had to be burned. Y/N’s was a portrait of herself that Stan did. He tried really hard. And she doesn’t want to burn it now. 

She sat in the clubhouse alone, after everyone left, crying. Full-out sobbing and wailing in her deep sorrow. She was completely spent after it, save Pennywise spooking her out of there, the portrait crumpled up in her fist tightly. 

IT thought it’d be funny to portray itself as Stanley who was drowning in his own blood and almost taking Y/N with him, if she hadn’t ran up the stairs. It’s not real, it’s not real. Her fear was drowning and losing Stanley. And the fact that one of them came true is just so unacceptably sad. Devastating. (A/N: I want to cry.)

She layed in the grass above the Clubhouse for however long she needed to calm down and pick up her broken pieces, mentally and physically. She slowly rose to her feet and started her way back to the hotel. She thought she saw Bowers on her way back, but she told herself she’s just mistaken the man for Bowers. But, when Eddie came out of his room with blood gushing out of his cheek and said that Bowers is in his room, she realised she wasn’t mistaken with who she saw.

After an argument and Richie trying to flee the town, the Losers Club reunited and bravely went back into the Neibolt house to kill IT once and for all. Y/N was scared, hollow, but with the realisation and perk that she had nothing to lose anymore. She had lost the most important thing in her whole life. Nothing can be worse than that.

They were a mess. Not five minutes into the trip in Neibolt and they had split up, everything was in shambles and they couldn’t get a hold of themselves or each other.

Y/N was crouched down, turned inwards, in the corner of the must-have-been kitchen. Her head between her hands and her eyes on Stanley. Or Stanley’s head. The one that now had spider legs grown out of it. His eyes are… horrid. No sign of life or love or anything good. Death, hate, anger, maliciousness. None of these qualities were something that Stan ever contained.

Tears are streaming down her face in a quick pace, scorching her cheeks and eyes, irritating the skin. Her throat is already dry from the screaming and crying for the past twelve hours. It hurts to cry, but it hurts to see… this weird Stanley Uris. She can’t help but cry.

Her love. Her life. Her only love ever. The boy that was ready to give her everything he could give from him. The boy who was ready to show her the world, who was ready to take the moon and stars from the sky if she ever asked, the boy who was ready to protect and love her like no one else could ever try.

He’s dead. He’s dead because of IT and its wrath and its toll on Stanley. How unfair. How unfair for IT to do this to such a caring, innocent young boy. How dare he. Stanley had done nothing wrong in his life to get this end. Stanley hadn’t done anything wrong for something or someone to bite him back in the form of IT, a killer clown or a weird-looking woman. 

She’s filled with fury. She’s still crying, still bawling and moaning in emotional pain while her friends are in panic. Stanley’s spider form is not getting off Richie. Bill is trying to help him, Eddie’s in another corner, frozen in fear, as well. God, he can’t even help his friends. He’s so scared. His fear and traumatic memories have been so repressed and now they’re coming back in a second’s time, all at once, and hitting him in the face like a brick. Quite physically.

Y/N picks up a spike from the floor. She figures it must be laying there since Pennywise got it out of his head when Beverly stabbed him. Twenty-seven years ago… When Stan was still alive… When they were all in one piece. Her face twists in utter anger and she growls, almost. Eddie’s eyes flicker over to her, scared of her, too. He hopes she’s not another form of IT.

Y/n holds the spike in her hands so tight it makes her hand hurt. But she doesn’t care. She must do this. At least this. She staggers over the room to where Richie, Bill and Stan’s head are with the spike in her hands and, upon reaching them, immediately starts hitting the damn spider-head with the spike’s sharp end.

She’s screaming and crying and calling IT names, calling the entity out for what he’s done, for what he is. Her every emotion is spilling out into each hit and each word and spit of her tongue.

Richie and Bill start screaming, and Y/N tries hard not to hit Richie in the process. The spider-head grows weaker and falls off of Richie, who now has a very bloody shirt. Bill helps him get up, and the men both watch Y/N completely destroying the spider-head with the spike. 

She’s yelling, she sounds like an animal, there’s anguish and rage. The only things they see existing in her. Blood is everywhere, the head is screaming, as well, blood and guts and brains and pieces of spider-legs everywhere. Horrid, disgusting scene all around.

The moment the head is hit to complete pieces is when Y/N finally groans out, relief in the groan, and drops the spike. She collapses on the floor next to the destroyed head, her hand on her stomach. 

That was a big thing. A big step. In stepping over her fears and in starting to get over Stan’s death. If she’s ever capable of that. 

“Y/N!” Bill and Richie go over to her, helping her stand up. Eddie’s in terrible shock from everything he’s seeing, he can’t move.

“I’m fine, guys, I’m fine. That just took a lot of strength.” She says and takes a few deep breaths, panting as the two men hold her by her sides and back supportively. 

“You’re a fucking hero, Y/N.” Richie says. She doesn’t say anything, and nor does anyone else for a while. Richie and Bill exchange looks, thinking the same thing.

Y/N could destroy a thing that looked exactly like the love of her life. While her fear is losing him, Stanley dying or just… going away in any other way. She is so brave. Much, much more brave than the two of them combined, at least now. She is so, so brave and strong. She could be the main key to destroying IT when they get to the layer.


	2. Shower Caps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stanley Uris is a soft boyfriend and provides his friends, as well as his girlfriend, with anti-spider shower caps. Reader plays an innocent prank on Richie Tozier.

“Hey, Stanley, what is this for?”

The question comes from Y/N, her eyes wide in wonder and curiosity. She holds up the given shower cap higher in her hand. The accessory has hearts printed on it, and she soon notices that Stanley’s got a matching one on his head already, to which her eyes only increase the look of wonder in them. The boy wears it well, the white and pink color combo of the cap fits him. It looks a little like a crown on his head.

Stanley smiles and walks closer to her through the Clubhouse, the now empty can for use of shower caps in his hands. He presses a kiss to Y/N’s still bare hair and makes Y/N smile with the kiss. Stanley then places the empty can down and takes her shower cap in his hands. He’ll put it on her head, and he does. His hands are slow and careful, afraid he might accidentally scratch her skin with the rough elastic of her cap. He adjusts it with his touches like feathers. There, he says to himself, looking at his girlfriend now in a matching shower cap.

“So we don’t get spiders in our hair while we’re here.” He tells her and Y/N gasps, more theatrically than genuinely. The sight makes Stanley laugh. “Wouldn’t want one of those things to wonder around in your pretty hair.” He says.

Y/N agrees with a nod. “You know me well.” She still looks at him, and then presses a kiss to Stanley’s cheek. The gesture makes him blush. “Thanks, baby.”

“We’re not scared of fucking spiders!” Richie insists, holding his shower cap with a careless hand as he sits in the hammock. Y/N and Stanley almost simultaneously roll their eyes at Richie.

“I am, and–” Y/N starts, and her eyes fall upon the rest of her friends, who do have their shower caps on. Richie notices that, as well, and he sighs. “Well, would you look at that?” She asks, sassily raising an eyebrow and putting her hand at her waist, standing in that sort-of iconic position.

“I stand corrected.” Richie says, and looks back to his comic only after seeing Eddie taking the shower cap off his head.

“I didn’t know you liked spiders in your hair, Eddie,” Beverly teases the small boy and he turns to her for a split second with wide eyes. He’s a little conflicted now.

“Eh, let him do what he wants,” Y/N says when she’s close enough to Beverly so that she can whisper. Bev looks at her friend, “he doesn’t want Richie thinking wrong of him, can’t you see?”

“I know. But I was just joking.” Beverly tells her and laughs, to which Y/N laughs, too. She turns to Stanley and sees he’s putting up a poster of The Lost Boys now. He’s turned his back to the group, and Y/N worries he might be hurt by Richie’s statement. While she walks over to him, she ducks her head when a particularly low log of the ceiling stands in her way.

“Hey,” she softly touches his arm. Stanley glances at her, but keeps nailing the poster to the sort-of wall, looking at the nail still, “these,” Y/N points at her shower cap, “are a lovely idea. The best, in fact.” She states.

“Not everyone thinks so.” Stanley says quietly, and he huffs. Y/N frowns. He’s done with putting the poster up, and steps back to admire how it looks. Meanwhile, Y/N is admiring the sight of him, her incredibly loving boyfriend. She smiles a sad smile, and pulls Stanley against her by his hand. He almost collapses onto her, almost knocks them both over, but Y/N maintains both their balances.

She lays another kiss on his cheek, and the next one on his neck, and when she looks at him again, Stanley’s eyes are focused purely on her. At least she’s hypnotised him for a little while. All it takes is to look into her eyes, and see the admire and excited wonder in them.

Y/N takes Stanley to their spot of alone together under the entrance stairs. She put pillows and blankets there, for their warmth and comfort. She’s the first to sit down, and she lays her legs slightly apart so Stanley can lay between them. He does, and he sighs once his back touches her chest, getting comfortable, and Y/N’s arms hang loosely around the boy’s neck. Stanley plays with one of her hands’ fingers softly, and it tickles her a little.

Unfortunately, their seat is with a great view of the hammock where Richie now sits. Stanley doesn’t focus on that now, he focuses more on the fact that he and Y/N have a separate lounging spot only for their own use, which has been agreed on.

“Watch this,” Y/N whispers to Stanley, and he follows her command, “Rich!” Y/N calls out, a wicked grin growing on her face.

“Yes, my fair lady?” Richie responds, though his eyes are still deep into the comic book.

“There’s a spider. Hu-huge spider. Coming r-right down into your head.” She adds a little bit of a trembling voice and gasps just so he’d believe her. “It’s in your hair!” She whines, pointing at Richie’s head.

Richie yelps and immediately jumps out of the hammock, his hands desperately clawing at his hair in hopes of getting the horrible eight-legged creature out of there. His glasses fall onto the sand ground out of his hurried movements, and he yells once again. “Motherfucker!”

Eddie, Beverly and Mike stand back, too afraid to get the spider on their own hands, but Bill and Ben go to help the poor boy. For a moment, they’ve really believed what Y/N said.

When none of the three boys find even a trace of a huge spider, they stand gasping in confusion. And when Y/N and Stanley start cracking up, they send the couple nasty glares, realising they’ve been fooled.

“Just kidding!” She squeals, and her laughter intoxicates Eddie, Bev and Mike. As well as Bill and Ben, but a second later. They ruffled Richie’s hair for nothing, and probably looked like the utmost fools. “We’re not afraid of fucking spiders.” Y/N mocks Richie’s voice once she’s mildly calmed down from laughing. Richie scowls.

“Yeah, yeah, very funny.” The boy tells her, and slowly gets back on his feet. “That was lame.”

“Lame? Y-Y-Your eyes were wide as pluh-plates.” Bill honestly says to his friend, and everyone laughs again. Richie only shakes his head, clearly embarrassed by the prank Y/N pulled on him, and goes to lay back in the hammock. Only Eddie’s already beaten him to it. No luck.

“Are you serious?!” Richie exclaims. Eddie does a ‘hehehehe’ and opens a comic book Richie was previously reading. The glassed boy looks at Y/N. “Was this your plan all along?”

Y/N denies by shaking her head, raising her hands slightly to show her innocence. Richie doesn’t believe her, but he only shakes his head and says nothing.

“You had used your time up, anyway.” Eddie points out.

“What do you mean?” Richie adjusts his glasses to his nose.

“Ten minutes each, you were here for much longer. Broke the rule.”

“What kind of fucking rule? There’s no sign, no rule I can read.”

“It was a verbal agreement.”

“Verbal agreement my ass…”

Y/N shakes her head, and knows that Stanley rolled his eyes at the two friends’ bickering before he turned to look at Y/N. She’s now looking down at him, something she gets to experience quite rarely.

Stanley turns towards her and embraces her torso, his cheek squishing against her clothed tummy. He closes his eyes and Y/N runs her thumb over the back of his neck, slowly, gently, soothingly. And then her hand pulls Stanley’s head closer to her, her palm over his forehead. Stanley feels like he could fall asleep any moment now.

“My sweet baby.” Y/N gives him a new nickname while they lay there. Stanley likes it, and so he hums to show his appreciation. He eventually does fall asleep as he clings to Y/N’s waist and hears her heartbeat.


	3. You Don't Know You're Beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader gets a lot of acne, and thinks that makes her unattractive to anyone, especially Stanley Uris, so she hides these "imperfections" with make-up. An after-school encounter with Henry Bowers ends in her disguise vanishing, and she's quick to run away for the anxiety that Stanley will see her without make-up and will not like her looks. The rest is history, as they say.

Beverly’s face was just pure, natural-born beauty. And not just her face, actually. That girl was an actual angel head to toe, inside and out. You could say Y/N was in love with her, but really, she was jealous of her looks. But that jealousy wasn’t nasty. It was a love sort-of jealousy, you could call it envy, maybe desire. 

Y/N wanted everything Beverly had. The round face, the pretty eyes, the cute nose, the pink, plump lips, rosy cheeks, luscious hair, perfectly sculpted frame of the face. She was the most gorgeous girl, and Y/N wanted that. She wanted to be that girl. She had an obsession.

She thought that by looking as pretty as Beverly, she could earn the attention and pining she so craved from Stanley Uris. He was her classmate, and her friend, but she’d always liked the boy, so it changed how she looked at who he was to her. Stanley was the most beautiful boy, the most beautiful person in her eyes, and she selfishly wanted him to like her.

It’s nothing wrong, we have all been there when we were young. Y/N just thought Stanley would never like her if she’s not pretty like Beverly, if she’s not the same perfect girl that Beverly was. She felt far from the ideal that, she presumed, every boy liked and wanted.

And when she found make-up, she was delighted. She thought she’d finally found something that would help her be the ideal girl for any boy to like. Even Stanley Uris.

She put foundation on, its tone paler than her own complexion, but she didn’t notice that, not when she was focusing on how movie-perfect she made herself look. Some people thought she looked a little doll-like or some days, when the acne was worse, ghost-like. None of her acne or her zits were visible with the foundation on, and Y/N smiled at herself in the mirror. I’m on the right track. 

The girl had never liked bright, jumping-out colors. Or maybe she thought she didn’t because Beverly never wore those colors. Whichever way it is, Y/N put soft pink eye-shadow on her eyelids. She blended it out just right. Having done this routine many times before, Y/N’s hands and fingers were moving like an artist’s. 

She put a little shine on the sides of her face and a blush to her cheeks, only a small one. Y/N smeared lipstick in a raspberry-pink shade on her already beautiful lips and smacked her lips together. She made a silly face at herself in the mirror and made herself laugh with that. It was early hours of the morning in her house and the girl was laughing. Ain’t that cheery?

Y/N finished her everyday make-up with mascara. She laid it on her eyelashes in a single layer, not really enjoying how her eyes looked when they’re surrounded by the color black. She wasn’t trying to look like a racoon or a panda on a school day. And Y/N didn’t use eyeliner at all, no matter how stylish the thing was. She messed it up her first time using it, and swore to never try it again. The thought of failing scared her. 

On the half-way out of her house, Y/N ate breakfast with her mother. She always gave the girl strange eyes. She didn’t approve of her spending money on make-up. Her mother thought the girlie was too young, and wanted to give her a rule, a sort of age restriction for usage of make-up. Y/N was only thirteen, but had recently started to look like she’s four years older, and, in a hidden part of her mind and heart, the mother hated to see her little girl growing up quicker than she needed her to be.

Y/N didn’t care for what her mother thought. She’d told her multiple times that she didn’t want, but needed make-up. She was obsessed with looking as perfect as a doll each day she saw Stanley. Her mother always sighed when Y/N asked her for money or for actual make-up—if they were in a store at the moment—, but she gave it to her, shaking her head as she handed the bills to Y/N or to a cashier. She couldn’t say no to her daughter.

Each day at school went by normally for Y/N, no incidents happened, maybe the occasional picking on her by Henry Bowers or some girls. But never crying. It would cause her make-up to run down her cheeks in black and pink rivers. But this one day, was a certain unlucky day for Y/N. She was in a good mood the whole day, and was even more joyous when her friends suggested they go down to the Barrens to finish their baby dam. Y/N didn’t know shit about dams or building them, but she wanted to be a helping hand if she could. And she was happy to spend the rest of the sunny day with them.

Henry Bowers had picked this incredibly perfect day, this one perfect day of all days, to visit dear Losers down in the Barrens. He had found their spot quite a while ago, but hadn’t let them know of that yet. He’d watched them from afar like the creep he was, and decided that today was the day he’d finally do something using this new discovery. He’d made his friends come along so he’d look more powerful in front of the boys and girls. But it really wasn’t needed, the kids were already terrified of him, they also hated him. He was a beacon of evil for them since the start of primary school, even before the actual beacon of evil had entered their lives.

The Bowers gang surprised the Losers Club by approaching them from behind their backs, and the first unlucky victim was Eddie. They pushed the small boy into the water, making him yelp and fall down on his hands and knees into the stream. Y/N, next to him, had barely a second to react or to help the boy when she was also pushed down. She fell face-first into the stream and shut her eyes immediately. If she even tried to keep some of her make-up on, she’d fail without a doubt. The mascara, the eye-shadow, the blush, the foundation—everything—was already off and had started to float down the water stream.

Y/N raised her head from under the water with a panicked gasp and blinked. She held her cheeks and only felt the water there, only water on skin. The water would soon be joined by her tears, which came in rivers.

“Look at Barbie!” Bowers bellowed. “Her whole face fell off!” He continued and all his friends laughed their evil, ugly laughs. 

“Sh-shut up, Bowers.” Bill started to say, and with those words had fallen next victim of Henry Bowers. Richie had slapped his arm to say that wasn’t at all necessary, and Bowers took note on that gesture, too, moving to Richie next.

Y/N helped Eddie get up on his feet after she’d helped herself, and then drew in a sniffle. “Y/N…” He had started to say, but whatever it was, Y/N didn’t want to hear the end of it. She picked up the corners of her dress and ran past Eddie. She started running in the direction of the woods, away from where Bowers came from and away from where she and her friends came from. A completely different direction. But it didn’t matter where she was going, as long as it was away. 

Stanley and Beverly had noticed that, and they locked eyes before Stanley went after her, hot on her heels. “Hey, kike, where the fuck do you think you’re going?!” Hockstetter had called out after him, but Stanley paid no mind to that. He only started to run faster, in case the bully decided to chase him, which was often the case. But Hockstetter didn’t care for him or the other girl that day when much more fun was right before his eyes, standing in the form of six teens around the water stream.

The six had the idea to run right after Y/N and Stanley, run as fast and as far as they could, run from Bowers. That idea seemed much more tempting than staying there with Bowers and his friends, but Beverly figured she—they—better stay and run in the most unexpected moment. In the case if Bowers and his friends never leave.

“Y/N, stop!” Stanley begged as he still ran after her. But how far did she plan to go exactly? They were halfway deep into the woods already, and Y/N was still running. She ran as if her life depended on it. As if she was running from something or someone. Stanley sure hopes it’s not him she’s running from. “Y/N, it’s me!” 

Y/N collapsed in the midst of her run, fell down onto her knees, her hands and face falling on her knees. Stanley almost fell over her, but he stopped before he could have, and ran around her. Stanley stopped right in front of her and put his hands on his knees, leaning forward a little bit, panting. Not a recommended position after hardcore running, but he didn’t care for his heart hammering out of his ears. He still heard the sound of her sobbing, and he squatted down to be closer to her.

“Y/N… What is it?” Stanley asked, in the soft voice that sounded like an angel’s to Y/N. 

“Nothing!” She said, stood up and turned so suddenly that Stanley couldn’t catch a glimpse of her eyes. “I’m gonna go home.” She decided and walked past Stanley in a quick pace. Oh my, is she going to run again?

“No, wait. You’re crying! Clearly it can’t be nothing.” Stanley grabbed her hand, and it made her stop. He didn’t want to come off as rude or demanding, but he wanted to know what was wrong, and why she was crying. Y/N still wouldn’t turn to face him. “Please look at me.” 

And as suddenly as she previously got up and started to walk, she faced him then. Eyes full of sorrow and tears, her cheeks stained pink and black and a lighter shade of her skin, all in sort-of small waterfalls. It looked kind of pretty. Stanley furrowed his brow, wondering furthermore what was wrong. 

“It’s only Bowers.” Stanley quietly guessed at a possibility of her reason for crying.

“Stanley, I’m ugly.” Y/N boldly stated when she looked at Stanley. Her eyes were tired and her voice was monotone, as if it was a well-known fact, what she said. “All my make-up’s come off and I… and you can see… I’m just not as—not as pretty as the other girls—I’m not as—”

“Y/N,” Stanley took her other hand in his, “that doesn’t matter.” He shook his head. 

“Really?” She asked. “How am I supposed to be beautiful then, if I don’t have make-up?”

Her words broke Stanley’s heart. Because he immediately understood how she felt, and how her heart felt. He understood her insecurities. “You are beautiful without it.” He told Y/N and stepped closer to her, any sort of effort to make his words heard by her. Stanley didn’t understand how she can think such a horrible thing about herself, but then again he heard her insecurities in these same words. And he understood.

Y/N sighed and shook her head, looking away. “No, I’m not. I’ll never be…” she took a deep breath, “I’m never gonna be beautiful. Not with so much acne or such a b—” 

The bad things she was about to say about herself Stanley silenced with a kiss to her lips. Suddenly, surprisingly, but sweetly and with deep meaning. Like all the words he wanted to stay he said with a single, innocent kiss. His hands held her cheeks ever so gently, afraid he was holding them perhaps too harshly. Stanley’s eyes were closed, shut with determination.

Y/N couldn’t believe it was happening. Her eyes widened and her eyebrows raised. Did he really just… Had Stanley Uris really just kissed me? This boy? The most beautiful boy in the world? It must be a dream. I must be looking more attractive than I am, she thought. Tears pooled in her eyes and Stanley pulled away, his hands on her shoulders now. 

“You’re very, very beautiful and you don’t need any make-up.” Stanley told her, quietly then, with pauses between his words. “I like you… I like you just the way you are. I mean, you can put on make-up—or not—if you want to, you don’t have to be the way I want you to be, you just have to be yourself.” Stanley sighed, a little tired from his own ramble. But he noticed in a quick glance that Y/N wasn’t looking so sad anymore, and it gave him courage to say more. “I mean… What I want to say is you’re beautiful without any make-up.”

Y/N bit her lip to hold back her laugh, she didn’t want her reaction to seem mean to the boy who had just, perhaps, confessed precious feelings. He had put his heart out on his sleeve, and it meant everything to her. She was smiling even with her bitten lip. Stanley was glad she was. 

He stood more and more closer to her until he was hugging her, and Y/N was soothed by his embrace. “My make-up’s gonna make your shirt dirty.” She said as they hugged. Stanley laughed and it made Y/N smile wider. 

“That’s okay.” He said to her. He was glad to be holding her, he was glad to have confessed, he was glad to have made Y/N smile. Although the question “does she feel the same?” picked at his mind like mice at a piece of cheese. Stanley confessed because he wanted her to know. He told her she truly is beautiful because she needed to hear it and because he wanted her to see herself from his point of view, if she couldn’t see herself right from her own eyes.

“You’re the best person, Stanley.” Y/N said quietly. “I like you very much.” She said even quieter, afraid for Stanley to actually hear those words, afraid to say them out-loud. She could have misread his words and he could have meant them in a different way. But he didn’t, and that was the truth. “You make me feel beautiful, Stanley Uris.”

Stanley allowed himself to smile shyly, and he even blushed. He nodded then. “I’m very glad.” He told her and tucked his head more into her neck.

Both teens heard footsteps coming from the Barrens’ direction, and they whipped around, scared that it was Bowers and his friends again. But it was Beverly, and it was Richie, and it was Bill and Mike carrying Eddie, and it was Ben. They were running towards Y/N and Stanley in a fast pace. Y/N made out the group of older teenagers not so far behind them, and panic grew in her eyes.

“Run, you bimbos!” Beverly called out with a wicked grin as she still ran, and ran past them. Stanley immediately gripped Y/N’s hand and they both turned back around and started running with their friends.

The Losers were running as a pack of wolves, you could say, they were running together and they were running in the same pace. For some reason, Y/N and Stanley even liked this running, they had smiles on their faces and even laughed once in a while. Somehow forgetting the fact that Bowers and his friends were chasing after them.

But Y/N didn’t care about Bowers, and she wouldn’t for a long time. She was holding the hand of the boy who made her feel beautiful.


	4. A Hundred Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stanley Uris and Reader are in a new relationship and Reader has a waitressing job. The Losers all come to visit her and spend time with her. Richie Tozier's flirty behavior nearly doesn't help how nervous and shy Reader and Stanley still are towards each other.

“Can I take your order?”

“If by order you mean me, then sure.” 

Y/N’s friends roll their eyes, and Stanley’s the first to, while Y/N herself gives Richie a polite smile. She’s used to the boy’s flirtatious nature, and has learned well to give subtle reactions to any comments. Her boyfriend turned a little sad when she laughed or blushed at these flirtations, and she never wanted to give him the wrong ideas and she didn’t want to give Richie the satisfaction either. She also secretly hoped he’d stop then, but Tozier kept on spitting flirtings and comments instead of normal sentences either way.

“Beep-beep, Richie.” Eddie says to his friend, poking his side. “I’ll have Today’s Special, thanks, Y/N.” Eddie gives her a heart-warming smile. She responds with the same and writes down his order. 

The rest of her friends make their orders and Y/N scribbles them down in the much-too-little notebook her work provides her with. Stanley’s sitting closest to the edge of the table, and Y/N stands right next to him. His hand has latched onto her thigh, holding it right under where her skirt ends. Y/N appreciates the gesture, and she leaves her hand at the back of his head, deep in the curls, the tips of her fingers faintly touching his scalp. Though both their hands aren’t completely certain of where and when and why they should be put anywhere near each other.

Y/N and Stanley have never before been in a relationship. You could say they’re still sort-of kids, and perhaps that’s why. Basically, this is their first one. And their mutual inexperience makes it better, you could say. If they’re both the same, there’s no pushing or secret impatience or even secret, unspoken pining. And they already know they love each other, though they have not said the words yet, so the comfort and support goes deep between them. Their love is visible, especially in public.

“What do you want, my love?” Y/N asks, her voice faltering and becoming a little quieter speaking the last two words. She’s looking down at Stanley, and he looks up at her, leaning into her hand that’s now on his cheek.

“Whatever’s your favorite.” He responds in a sweet voice and Y/N nods, scribbling down “banana pancakes” in the notepad. She gives Stanley a kiss on the top of his head before she starts walking away, but she stops when Richie calls her name. Again.

“Y/N!” 

The girl whips around as best as her high heel boots allow and gives the boy a questioning look. Her hand with the notepad is tightly secured by her side, and her hair has fallen over her shoulder on that same side.

“I was wondering - at what time do you get off?” Richie speaks and once again adjusts his huge, thick glasses on the high of his nose and Y/N sighs.

“In fifteen minutes. So I can spend time with you guys.” She smiles at her friends, and they cheer. Mike, Ben and Beverly raise their arms in the air.

“Your boss won’t mind?” Mike asks and Y/N shakes her head. 

“He offered me that when you guys came in.” She says. 

“A nice adult? Here?” Beverly questions, her eyebrows raised and eyes surprised. Y/N gives a shrug and they all laugh. She then restarts her walk back to the kitchen, her boots boom against the floor and her hair sways and her skirt flares around her milky thighs. Stanley looks over the wall of their booth to watch her walk, and his eyes turn completely into hearts when he does. She’s so breathtaking. He can’t keep his eyes off her through her journey around the counter and through the kitchen. 

“Richie, you’ve gotta stop.” Ben says, and that takes Stanley to turn back into his friends’ booth.

“Stop what?”

“We know you’re hyperactive, and we know you, but Stan and Y/N/N are together now!” Beverly whispers, but Stanley still hears her and hears that they’re talking about him and Y/N. And he doesn’t appreciate the attention. “You’re making Stanley a little sad.” She whispers even more quietly. “You have to shut up sometimes.” Beverly adds and leans towards Richie for effect, widening her eyes.

“Afraid I’m gonna take your girl, Urin?” Richie asks and snickers, looking at Stanley across the table. The boy shyly meets Richie’s eyes, looking through his eyelashes. 

“You wish, Trashmouth.” Stanley tells him, coming off strong. Bill punches Stan’s shoulder in salute, but Stanley only gives him a punch back and faintly smiles. 

“Richie’s just jealous.” Mike says and laughs quietly to himself, but his friends join him. 

“Why the fuck would I be jealous?” Richie makes a fuss, waving his hands around and deeply furrowing his eyebrows, also looking pointedly at Mike with his big, round irises. Eddie stops his hands and puts them down on the table, where they stay put. Richie looks at Eddie for a little longer than usual in a way he always does. Stanley can’t figure out what that look means yet, but he’s sure he will someday. 

Y/N brought her friends’ orders as soon as they were ready for serving, took the apron off her waist in the dressing room and went to join her friends. She asked for an extra set of banana pancakes for herself and took them with her on the way to her friends’ booth. She sat down right next to Stanley, but he moved her over his legs so that she’d be sitting in his lap. 

She looks lovingly at him, that same warm smile on her face now that she gave to Eddie less than twenty minutes ago. And she puts her arm around Stanley’s shoulders, but turns to face her friends. Stanley’s arms are around her waist and back, and that makes them look like a couple straight out of a movie. The high school sweethearts. Once school comes again, they’ll be just that.

“Enjoying your meals, guys?” She asks, looking over her friends. They all nod, pleased looks on their faces and mouths full of their mentioned meals, a fry hanging out between Bill’s lips. Y/N laughs at that and cuts a piece of her own pancakes. Then, noticing Stanley’s hands are occupied with holding her, cuts Stanley’s pancakes in the pieces he likes best. And he gives her the brightest smile of that night.

“How much of these do you actually make yourself?” Ben asks.

“They don’t give me access to the foods just yet, unfortunately,”

“You’d be a killer chef, though,” Mike says, “you guys remember that sleepover at Bill’s where Y/N made us all proper breakfast?”

“Yeah! That was actual food!” Eddie chimes in.

“I r-r-remember that. Was the best breakfast of my life.” Bill admits and shoots a saluting smile Y/N’s way.

“Thanks, guys.” The girl responds.

“Maybe we could put in a good word for ya.” Richie suggests. “Write a recommendation or whatever those job things require.”

Everyone laughs, even poor Stanley. He’s lightened up.

“Keep it formal, then, and maybe I’ll be a worldwide-famous chef in a few years!” Y/N stretches her arms out around her for effect, acting as if she’s on a movie poster or in a ballet. From Stanley’s angle, she looks like an angel. And maybe a movie star, too.

After taking her hand in his and kissing it, Stanley and Y/N both turn back to their friends to mingle together. The boy isn’t frowning anymore and the importance of Richie’s (already harmless) flirtations seems to lessen, and the world seems a bit brighter.

Her friends made sure to put in a good word for Y/N in front of her boss. The big man came down to make sure everything was fine and dandy at the Losers’ booth and once Richie opened his mouth, the man would only listen, laugh and tell some stories from himself.

He took Y/N’s friends’ words to heart and said he’d think about it. So maybe taking Richie with us to visit Y/N at work wasn’t such a bad idea, after all, Stanley thinks. Not like we would have left him behind if we had a choice.

“Hope we didn’t embarrass you too much today,” Stanley says to his girlfriend, even glancing shyly her way. They’re walking the way to her house on the steamy summer evening as the sun sets slowly in the West. They’re scared to hold hands, not knowing if it’d be over the line or maybe just right.

Y/N looks at Stanley. “The people I call my friends could never embarrass me, hon,” she says, “much less the lot of you.”

There’s a strange silence fallen between them, and Y/N sighs. Both their minds are racing thousand miles an hour, mostly consisting of contemplation and anxiety and questions. It’s sort of a loud noise between their ears and Y/N sighs to get rid of it. Her anxiety is getting in the way of enjoying her first relationship.

After this critical sigh, she decides to get it over with and takes Stanley’s hand bravely in hers. His breath catches at the gesture, but he does not protest. Instead, he only steps closer to his girlfriend and smiles at her.

“I honestly didn’t know when to do that.” He admits to her and they laugh a nervous chuckle together.

“Me neither. Figured this would be the right time.” She says and sees in the corner of her eye that Stanley nods. “I don’t know what to do when at all. I’m so new to this…”

“Me too. I should take my own advice, but don’t worry about things too much.” Stanley says, and then is delighted to hear Y/N actually laugh at his words. “You know, if we’re struggling or whatever, then at least together, right?” He looks at Y/N in a sort of questioning way. She nods, showing her agreement. The boy is very right.

“Totally.” She says and looks away for a moment. She bites her lip, an idea having popped into her head suddenly. She leans over and squeezes a light kiss on Stanley’s cheek.

Both his cheeks burn bright red, shining like apples in a tree. The boy’s flustered, but so is Y/N. You think her cheeks didn’t turn as red as wine? You’re very wrong. Both teenagers fall silent and think about how nice the little kiss was.

Stanley abruptly stops their walking and turns to Y/N. He now takes her other hand in his as she watches him patiently. “Can I… try something, maybe?” He whispers quietly. Y/N nods, feeling that saying any more words would be too loud for this moment.

She waits for him to do anything at all, she doesn’t know what to expect. So when his lips touch upon hers, she smiles widely. Her lips and her hands and her feet tingle with excitement from Stanley’s kiss and she feels so, so, so many butterflies in her stomach fluttering their wings all at once.

It’s their first kiss together, and it has made the night and the whole day magical and memorable in both their teenage lives. When they’ve pulled apart and looked into each other’s wide eyes of surprise and recognised the same look in each other, Stanley and Y/N giggle. And then she embraces the boy.

“I like you so, so very much, Stanley Uris.” She tells him.

As he circles his arms around her form, Stanley says in response, “You bet your fur I like you a hundred times more.”

With the silliness of Stanley’s own internal bickering over Richie Tozier’s comments long gone, the boy walked Y/N to her house and bid her a long good-bye there. They didn’t really want to say good-bye to each other, yet they knew they’d see each other every and all day, if they so wished. So there was a bit of sadness, but among that sadness was excitement and looking out for the new day tomorrow.


	5. If I Was A Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader has short hair, as short as boys do, and to Derry's 80s' society of narrow-minded people, it's not a trendy thing. Thankfully, not all people are like that.

She’s always been the girl with long, thick hair waving around her shoulders and getting messy and tangled when it’s windy. She used to make ponytails and envied buns. And she didn’t need the sponge to make it.

But one day in a summer two years ago, she had grown sick of all the tangling and the length of her hair strands, so she asked her mother to cut them shorter. They both thought that short hair would suit her beautifully. But, unfortunately, her mother cut it shorter than she meant to. Simply because of cutting one strand too short, and she couldn’t leave it like that.

At first, it was a disaster for the girl and she almost started crying, but she was laughing, as well. She didn’t blame her mother, she did it by accident. She just didn’t know what to do at first with such short hair. It barely reached over her ears.

Time after time, she got used to it and let her mother cut her hair when it grew out. The hair’s length was very comfortable. She never needed to put up a ponytail or put it up because it was never bothering her, contrary to how it was before. Always in her eyes and tickling the skin on her face and neck and shoulders.

And it does suit her well. She’s rocking the hairstyle. Each time she looked in her mirror, she smiled because she loved her look. That was until her first year of high school.

“Hey, Marv, do you think that’s a boy or a girl?” A boy shouts at his friend and laughs, looking at her. The girl doesn’t look at them, averting her eyes to the ground and turning her back to them. “I bet you 10 bucks it’s a girl.”

“No, dude. I bet you 20 that it’s a boy with a fanny!” His friend responds and they both burst into a fat laughing seizure. The girl gulps, a frown on her face as she gets her books and closes the locker. She can still hear the boys laughing as she walks down the hallway in the direction of the cafeteria, away from the horrid boys.

A shy jewish boy named Stan saw the whole thing in the locker hall, standing not so far from Y/N’s locker. He feels bad for the girl. He has never grasped the idea of bullying, it’s just cruel and without a reason in his eyes. Stan followed the girl with his eyes as she walked away. 

“Imagine if your parents wanted a boy when you’ve been a girl your whole life! Ha!” A crowd that Y/N passes on her way laughs, pointing fingers at her. She bends her head down even more and tries not to show any emotion to the bullies. Why are they doing this?

Stanley decides he has to do something. The girl looks close to tears and her frame is hunched over, turned into herself more. She was smiling at the start of the day, radiant. And now she’s been brought down by some bullies.

And for what? Her hairstyle? It’s very attractive and not at all boy-like. Her hair is a shade of golden, shining with an aura of the same color when it’s struck by sunrays. If anything, the bullies must be jealous, as out-rageous as that seems.

Y/N sits down at an empty cafeteria table with her lunch and sighs. She puts the tray down on the table and takes off her backpack, placing it on the bench next to herself. She would have begun eating her lunch, had not a curly-haired boy suddenly sat across her. 

She eyes suspiciously, clearly expecting him to have a bully-type behavior like the others. But she must not think so poorly of Stanley.

“Hi.” He says to her and offers her a polite smile. She lifts the corners of her lips up ever so slightly, not able to muster a real smile. “Your name is Y/N, right?”

“Yes.” She confirms. 

“I’m Stanley. My friends call me Stan.” He says and extends his arm. Y/N glances between his eyes and his hand, but shakes it after doubting it. She likes his manners and his voice. It’s small, but brave. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

“Not at all.” She shakes her head. “Why aren’t you sitting with your friends?”

“They all moved away this summer.” He says and begins to eat his own lunch. “Where are yours?”

“In a different school.” Y/N says nonchalantly, and also starts eating her lunch. Today she chose pasta with vegetables. “I guess we’re both kinda alone at high school.”

Stan smiles. “That gives us the chance to meet new people, I think.” He says. “By the way, I really, really like your hair.” Stanley admits, growing shy. 

Y/N blushes with wide eyes. “Really?” She makes sure and Stan nods. 

“It’s really pretty.” He tells her and she laughs quietly. 

“Thanks so much.” Y/N responds. “I like my hair, too. But the people in the hallway got to me.”

Stan clears his throat. “I know it’s easier said than done, I know that well,” he starts, “but don’t let them. They don’t matter. So keep on rocking the hair.”

Y/N laughs. He’s made her feel better about herself and her hair, taking that it was a disaster for her at first. “Thank you, Stan.” She says. Stan smiles at her, glad he could help and tell her his opinion.

They both fall into a comfortable silence as they eat their lunches and enjoy each other’s company. Both hopeful that this is a start of a new friendship.


	6. Holding Your Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stanley has had an intense crush on Reader for a long time. What will he do when they're alone from the group and Reader suggests they take pictures in the photo booth? Will he act on his crush?

“God, this movie’s awful.” Y/N groans and bangs her head against the soft padding of her seat, tilting it from side to side to catch either Stanley or Mike also getting bored. Mike is not, he’s very eager for the plot to unfold and even leaned out of his seat. Stanley, however, looks like he’ll fall asleep any second. He’s definitely bored out of his mind. She grins. 

Y/N pokes his shoulder with her index finger and immediately catches Stanley’s attention. He jumps a little in his seat and looks at her with spooked eyes. “What?” Comes the sharp whisper from the boy, though he doesn’t mean the question in a mean way. He’d never say anything in such a way to her.

“I’m bored…” Y/N drags out the word, looking him straight in the eyes with her wide ones, “not to be a guy in a movie, but do you want to get out of here?” She then asks.

“Oh, yeah, sure. This is super boring.” Stanley says. So Y/N stands up and, taking Stanley’s hand, walks past their friend group and other people watching Madhouse. She and Stan both apologise on their way out to each person whose vision they’re covering, trying to fasten the process whilst. 

Their friends do give them weird looks, and Richie snickers when he sees them. He whispers to Eddie, “Stan’s getting his move on, finally.” The smaller boy slaps his arm, not even looking at Richie.

“I’m trynna watch the movie, asshole.” Eddie hisses back, which makes Richie scowl at his best friend, but he turns his eyes back to the movie screen.

To elaborate on Richie’s comment, Stanley Uris has been head over heels in love and heart-eyes for Y/N since the first day he saw her. Which was years ago, and he denies it being from the first moment, at least in front of his friends. He holds these feelings and sympathy towards her precious to himself and didn’t want anyone, anyone at all, to know. 

But when he started freezing and blushing in her presence, his friends immediately knew what was up with the shy, content boy. And so the endless teasing began. 

And it wasn’t like it was a crush or potential person of interest that went away at some point or a moment in time. It was a full-on falling in love. Stuttering, longing, admiring, awkwardness, blushing, flustering, hiding, denying—everything.

Stanley couldn’t stand his friends making fun of him for liking the beautiful girl. To him, love and feelings are so sacred and such wonderful things a person could feel. Perhaps the best feelings a person can feel in their life. And this is his first true love, he’s sure of that. His friends just don’t understand what it’s like, and maybe they’re even jealous. He just hates being made fun of for his true feelings, especially by his best friends.

Stanley actually can’t believe he’s gotten a moment alone with Y/N. And he doesn’t know if he’ll act normal. He can’t even think when she’s around, which is almost all the time. One look at him or a touch of her hand and he’s gone. His mind is out the window, any common sense with it, too.

The two have walked out into the game room, which is mostly empty, if not for two kids playing Dragon Breed in its automat. It’s quiet in the room, and Stanley feels like his breathing is the loudest sound in the room because of that. And because of how nervous he was. 

“So… What do you want to do now?” Stanley asks, quite shyly, might we add, glancing at Y/N. She’s right next to him, leaning against the wall with her back. “There’s still a lot of time left in the movie.” He points out.

Y/N nods. “You’re right.” She responds. Her eyes aren’t on the boy, she’s still shy to look at him when they’re alone. “I don’t know, if you wanna play a game, you can, I’ll just wait.” She tells him, shrugging. “I’m not good at the games at all.” She admits. “But don’t tell the others that.” Y/N adds a request.

Stanley gives her a genuine smile. “I won’t.” He promises. “I can just pretend you win all the time. But, I don’t feel like playing now. I’m not in favor of these games in general.” 

“Too violent?” She cocks an eyebrow at him, looking at Stanley through her eyebrows. Stanley nods. “I understand that.” Y/N agrees. “Well, we could…”

For the first time in his life, Stanley gets a particularly spontanious idea. Or two… Or one that includes the other. It’s a quick and quite chaotic one—two things Stanley’s not fond of in any regular situation. But he must execute it.

“We could take some pictures, maybe?” He suggests, raising his hands slightly up in a guessing sort-of manner. “I still have a dollar or two, so we can take four.” Stanley states and upon mentioning his money status, he brings out his wallet and looks into it, checking the accuracy of his words.

“Yeah!” Y/N agrees in a cheery voice and instantly peels herself off the wall. “We can split it.” She says, holding some of her money between her delicate fingers. 

“My treat.” Stanley insists and Y/N nods, but reluctantly. There’s that little glint in her eyes of gratefulness that shows up for only a second or two, and it’s sure that only Stanley has noticed it. The glint travels through her whole face, adding a pink blush to her cheeks and making her shed a smile, too. He almost physically melts when he sees the sight.

Stanley puts his coins into the right slots of the photo booth machine and they both go in. God, it’s his moment. Finally. He’ll express his hidden feelings to her through something he’s never done before. Stanley doesn’t even know if he’s good at it. God, what if he sucks? He’s no professional! He’s only heard some talks of how it’s done and hopes the methods will really work. 

As the first picture is taken, Y/N and Stanley both smile at the camera. But behind his beautiful smile, there’s an uneasiness. Maybe in a good way? He can’t bring himself to do what he’s planned to. Partly because he’s not sure when to do it. Ah, screw it. Time’s running out—both in the photo booth and of the two of them alone.

Just before the flash goes off, Stanley ducks his head down to Y/N and kisses her lips as he knows best how to. It takes her by such surprise that she almost loses all her breath and falls to the ground. But she doesn’t because she’s taken hold of Stanley’s hands, because of surprise and need of balance.

Stanley pulls apart from her, feeling some sort of resistance, some form of no response. His eyes show fear and regret and horror, also. The emotions all flash through his light brown orbs in a split second. God, he’s screwed up. She doesn’t like him. He made a big move on her and now it’s all wrong. He shouldn’t have done it! Stanley, why?! What if he was shit? What if she doesn’t want to be kissed ever by him or anyone else?

And Y/N recognises the emotions and doubts instantly, writing them down as wrong and out-of-place. He’s done nothing wrong. She’s more than glad he’s kissed her. Glad is a very, very big understatement in this instance.

She lets go of his hands and grips his cheeks, kissing him back. Goodness’ sake! She’s kissed him back! Stanley’s eyes widen, but the flutter closed. The flash goes off again, the third picture being taken while she kisses him. 

When the kiss grows into a few more, the teens are both blushing and smiling. Their embrace is soft and an inexperienced one, so are their kisses. She has nothing to compare his kisses to, but she’s sure that Stanley Uris is the best kisser in the whole world. 

Pulling apart once again, the four pictures long taken already and waiting to be taken from the box, Y/N hugs Stanley. It’s a hug radiating love and happiness and only positive feelings, both of them feeling safe in each other’s arms and presence. They’re also both glad that their feelings for the other are reciprocated. 

Y/N kisses him on the cheek, and lingers still in Stanley’s embrace, not wanting ever to leave it or him. “Let’s see the pictures.” She whispers to Stanley and, again taking his hand, leads them both out of the booth. Y/N grabs the picture strip and leaves the Arcade through the main door with Stanley still holding onto her. 

Once they’re out in the cloudy day in Derry, Y/N straightens the strip of photographs in her hand and leans closer to Stanley, both looking at them. Stanley smiles wide, adrenaline and serotonin energising his whole system, heart and mind. He feels shaken with joy and pride.

A photograph of them smiling. A photograph where Stanley kisses her. A photo where she kisses him. The fourth picture shows the pair in the midst of changing kissing to hugging. A blurred one, but you can still see the smiles on both their happy faces. Y/N giggles. 

Her hand slithers down her side and slowly, gently locks with Stanley’s right hand. Once in a tight lock, Stanley gives her hand a squeeze. A responsive and assuring one. One that silently says “i love you”, yet to be spoken out loud.


	7. Loved You First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stanley and Reader are the most oblivious people you'll meet, oblivious to each other's feelings about the other. So when Richie Tozier flirts with Reader, it hurts Stanley and it makes him jealous. But Reader has got to tell him that she doesn't like these flirtations, nor does she freely reciprocate them.

It was not the words that made her blush. It was the fact that anyone from the opposite gender actually flirts with her. She never likes blushing, not at all. Least of all, in front of Stanley. But Richie wouldn’t ever shut up and her blush wouldn’t go away. She really can’t help it.

Y/N looks down everytime her cheeks turn pink, not wanting Stanley to see them. Ah, but he wouldn’t care, he wouldn’t like her anyway. But he does see her blush, and with every time, his hopes drop down a foot. She couldn’t have the same feelings as he does for her—she’s way out of his league.

See? It’s the same thing going both ways.

All the Losers know for a fact that Y/N and Stanley are falling for each other. More and more with each day they realise it, truth be told. They just wished the pair would actually… pair up at once! The unspoken feelings, tension, awkwardness and hiding are killing the rest. Everything better needs to be out in the open. But they can’t… They’re completely unknowing and denying of the other’s feelings. When will they get over their anxieties and tell each other everything, marry, make babies, etc, etc?!

Richie has found a new way to tease both of them about the unrevealed feelings. If before, the group made jokes about Stanley and Y/N, now Richie has started flirting with Y/N. Well, he was doing that already, only know he’s made it more noticable, frequent and, therefore, annoying.

Y/N is too polite to tell the joker to stop with his flirting, so she lets them happen and tries not to react too visibly. It’s hard for a young girl to do, but she manages. She tries not to think about Stanley too much, it hurts her heart to think he might be jealous. Or that he knows of her feelings and doesn’t return them. He hasn’t protested against Richie’s flirtations, and she knows why. He doesn’t care about them or her. It must be the only answer, what else could it be?

Stanley sighs to himself again, trying to concentrate on his book instead of Richie taking Y/N’s attention. But his eyes look through his eyelashes still, stealing glances at her shy, blushing face. He almost smiles at the sight, it lights up his sour minute and mind. But he doesn’t. She’ll know then and everything will feel weird.

“You two should go on a date,” suggests Beverly and warily glances at Stanley, wanting to see his reaction. He does nothing, and she only sees curls above the big book with green covers and thick pages. Not his sad eyes or his otherwise sad little face.

“Oh, I’m actually learning about the most important dates in history,” Richie starts and his friends can already feel the horrid pick-up line building up in his throat, “wanna be at one of them?” He asks, a smug grin on his face when he looks at Y/N. She just bursts out laughing, holding her hand over her lips.

“Why of course, I wouldn’t want to miss a date with the world-wide famous comedian Richard Tozier.” She responds, still laughing in-between her words. Her hand slaps the boy’s shoulder playfully, and she doesn’t mean it as anything serious, but Stanley sees it. Richie laughs, but then scoffs.

“Ugh, I hate that name.” He says. “Except for when you say it.” Richie adds, looking again at Y/N. She only gives him a simple smile and returns to her sewing.

That’s the last straw. Stanley rises to his feet suddenly and puts the book in his bag with rushing movements. He looks at none of his friends and stalks away through the sunlit meadow, his curls bouncing and his chest heaving up and down, knees moving quick.

The Losers eye him, saddened by his leaving and also confused by the same. Y/N looks between the walking Stanley and Beverly, whose eyes tell her to do something, almost begging. This could be your chance, Bev’s eyes seem to say. Y/N sighs to herself, her mind very quickly going over the different options she could be facing.

“Where the fuck did Urin go?” Richie questions, but Y/N has already decided to go after Stanley. She rises, puts her embroidery down on the log Richie and Eddie stay sitting on, disregarding the needle and thread. It falls into the grass beneath and stares at the running feet of Y/N.

Her friends turn their heads together and share excited looks. “They’re finally gonna do it!” Mike cheers quietly. “Well, I bet you three bucks that Stan will chicken out in the last second.” Eddie argues. “He’ll go with his heart, I think.” Ben admits, and this earns him a smile from Beverly.

“Stanley, wait!” She calls out to him in her running state. He hesitates when she calls his name, but keeps walking. He’s so tired of Richie and his flirting. Even when she’s the cause of it, she’s also a big reminder. She probably wants to get him back to the group. He won’t give in. “Stanley!” Y/N calls again.

Seems like he’s not stopping, and she’s out of breath already, going as fast as she can. Y/N takes a deeper breath and runs at lightning speed towards the fleeing boy. That helps her reach him, and she runs in front of him to block his way. He stops.

“Wait… A damn… Second.” She tells him between deep gasps and breaths. She tries to calm them, holding her breath here and there. Stanley watches her carefully, fingers holding onto his bag straps, waiting. There’s a hurt look in his eyes that has almost called tears out beyond the warmth of his eyelids.

“Why should I?” He asks. His voice is deep and he’s finally certain of what he says. Stanley’s stood up for himself and his chain raises a little higher in the air. Y/N furrows her eyebrows. A surge of adrenaline and courage goes through Stanley and he walks right past her, using that surge.

Y/N breathes an exhasperated pant and turns to watch him. “Stanley, no!” She calls after him, but he doesn’t stop. Once again, she starts running. Y/N holds her long dress so she wouldn’t trip on the fabric and runs through the forest after him.

She reaches him again and takes a firm hold of his hand. She almost yanks him to a quick stop, he’s a bit shocked. When he looks at her, there’s a begging in her beautiful eyes. He can’t say no to them. Oh, he’s made them that way. Has he hurt her? 

Y/N uses Stanley’s freezing to an opportunity to hold both his hands, therefore disabling his running away again. She stands right before him, keeping the eye contact locked tightly.

“I’m trying to tell you. Don’t leave.” She begs. Stanley feels her thumbs digging into his palms. She’s nervous.

“Why shouldn’t I?” Stanley questions. “It’s not like you enjoy my company, anyway. All you do is talk to Richie.”

Y/N tilts her head slightly, trying to understand what he’s getting at. “No, no—I’m not. He’s just… I don’t know, flirting with me, I guess.” She gets a little confused herself and looks down in her wonders. She’s gone off the point. “But I… I don’t like it when he does.”

Stanley looks at her strangely now. Denying to himself that the words she says are true. But he doesn’t say it. Of course she likes Richie flirting with her. She blushes all the time.

Should Y/N tell him everything? How she feels? She could make a fool of herself and she mustn’t do that. But what can she do if he doesn’t like her the same way? God, she should just get over herself and say it. She should! She must!

“You said you’d go on a date with him.” Stanley states the heard fact. Y/N makes a face and looks down, shaking her head.

“I won’t. That was a joke.” She tells him, and Stanley still questions her truth. “I don’t like him in… that way, to go on a date. I actually like someone else that way.” Y/N admits with a quiet sigh. She’s afraid to tell the truth, but she’s glad that almost half of it is out already.

Stanley freezes. Oh, dearie. “Wh—Who do you like?” He asks. Maybe it’s rude to ask. Maybe he’s intruding. How he hopes it’s him, though. “In that sort of way…” Stanley whispers then, glancing between Y/N and their feet in the grass.

Her eyes fall on him heavily. She’s trying to gain the courage and tell him, tell him, tell him. But she’s only looking at him, feeling like a total coward. “I like you that way.” She whispers, her eyes still on his. Stanley almost didn’t hear her and he wanted to ask her what did she say, but he held himself back. It’d make her feel even more nervous, he knows.

My, my, the boy is at a loss of words. What could he possibly say to her? Would confessing be too big of a step? Too sudden, perhaps? He’s just procrastinating now.

Y/N waits for Stanley to say something. They’re looking at each other strongly. Both their eyes are full of emotion and doubt. Y/N feels she’s really made a fool of herself now. He’s not saying anything because he doesn’t like her back. And now they’re stuck with this horrible silence, listening to the birds and bees around them both. Stanley’s bound to start laughing at her confession.

Her fingers loosen the hold on Stanley’s hands slowly, and he feels it. No, she can’t go. She’s gotten the wrong message. He does have something to say!

“Wait.” He halts her and Y/N freezes. Stanley holds her hands tighter, pulling her closer to him. She fearfully looks up to his beautiful eyes. Stanley takes a deep breath. “I like you, too. That way.” He tells her and his head tilts slightly at the last part. He smiles and Y/N does, too. Then she laughs. A chuckle of relief, you could say.

“Really?” She asks. She honestly would have liked not to, but she couldn’t stop her lips from moving. Stanley nods, confirming. Y/N takes her hands from his hold and throws her arms around Stanley’s neck, embracing him.

He has to hold her waist and stumble a bit, secure his feet on the ground, just so they both don’t fall down. Y/N almost does a twirl in Stanley’s arms. This is the biggest news.

When she draws back, Stanley rests his forehead on hers. There’s wide smiles on both their faces and they keep each other close. Stanley’s arms are still around her waist and hers are around his neck, her fingers softly caressing his back and his endless curls.

Y/N feels like she’s in a movie. And what do people in movies do in these kind of moments? She doesn’t know better than that. Romance novels are only to come into her life, so all she has to rely on are movies from the 70s and 80s. And they’re really not the best examples, but what the hell?

She leans upwards and tries to find Stanley’s lips with her own. She’s never done this before and she’s really nervous about screwing up the first time, but when their lips do meet, she forgets about it. She forgets everything else except her and Stanley, here and now, and her first kiss with him.

Neither of them know how to do this properly, and they draw apart after a few seconds. Their eyes and fingers are buzzing with excitement and they search the other’s eyes for what to do next.

“I’ve never done that before.” Stanley admits quietly. Y/N smiles.

“Me neither.” She tells him and they both chuckle. Stanley’s face grows serious again and his hand sneaks upwards to hold Y/N’s cheek. He kisses her. Y/N closes her eyes. This feels better than anything else in the whole world.

There’s a sudden twig-breaking and landing sound behind the two and they part, but Stanley holds Y/N close to his chest, afraid something might jump out and try to hurt them. But when they turn around, they see… Only their friends. On one hand, thank God. On the other, God help them.

“You two done fucking yet?” Richie asks and there are snickers from the others. Stanley and Y/N both roll their eyes almost in sync. Their friends are here to see some evolution of their pining after each other, and their eyes and hearts are delighted.

Stanley still holds Y/N and she relaxes her head against his chest and sighs, her arms now locked around Stanley’s waist.

“I thought I would enjoy them being together. You two make me sick.” Richie mocks gagging and Y/N giggles.

“You’re just jealous, Tozier.” She tells him and Beverly laughs.

“Glad you guys finally got together.” Mike says to Y/N and Stanley, a wide smile on her face.

“I didn’t be-believe what they—what they said at first.” Bill admits. “But you’re puh-perfect for each other.” He says and there’s even a little smile from him.

“Thanks, Billy.” Y/N tells him and Stanley gives his friend a thankful look.

“Can we go home now, please? We’ve already got nettle bites and probably pissants all over our legs.” Eddie whines and Y/N closes her eyes to the comment. What a way to—

“What a way to ruin the moment, Eddie.” Ben complains, finishing Y/N’s thought. The group start to turn around one by one to head back to get their things.

Stanley looks down at Y/N to find her smiling lovingly at him. “You wanna go with them? Or do something alone together?” He asks her.

“The second option, definitely.” She nods and Stanley gives her a kiss as an appreciation, and hugs her close. “Hey, guys!” Y/N waves to her friends after breaking from Stanley’s hold. The pack looks back at her. “We’re gonna go.” She just states and most of her friends grin.

“What about your stuff?” Beverly asks.

Y/N shrugs. “Bring it to my house. I don’t need it.” While I have Stanley.

Beverly nods and then waves Y/N good-bye. So do the rest of the group and continue their journey back to the Clubhouse. Y/N grasps Stanley’s hand in hers and tugs him towards the forest’s edge. “Let’s go.” She tells him. They make for the road outside, stepping and tripping over twigs and branches and logs. Their hands are held together tightly so they wouldn’t lose each other. Now that they’ve got each other, they can’t risk it.


	8. Spiders In Your Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader likes when her curly hair is being played with, just like Stanley.

The Clubhouse was a place full of love and warmth, a place no one except the losers know and could uncover. They’ve done a good job at hiding it from anyone, thanks to Ben’s incredibly high knowledge in architecture and nature’s own cunning ways of concealing the lower levels.

But, as much as the sun shone through some holes in the ground accidentally made, it isn’t enough sunbathing for Y/N. Plus, her hair heats up her head what with the curls being concealed by Stanley’s bought showercap. Her showercap has hearts, he made sure of that when he was shopping for them. 

She hates spiders, so she doesn’t mind the showercap when she’s in the Clubhouse. But it tends to irritate her skin, and she’s glad when it’s off, outside of the Clubhouse.

This being one of those days. Her hair is disobedient today of all days, when she had to meet Stan and the others and not stay at home with her family. She did wash it, but maybe her mother’s shampoo isn’t working for her hair. It’s extremely dry and going in all directions. She can’t control it.

“I’m going, um, upstairs,” she tells everyone with a smile and the crowd nods. Stan follow his girl suit, much rather glad to enjoy her company than to be hearing Richie and Eddie’s eternal bickering. It’s killing his nerves.

“Go, stan, run after your girlie!” Richie mocks him, which earns him a hard jab in his left side from Beverly. Y/N only shakes her head and runs up the wooden stairs. 

She sighs once she’s gotten the cap off and her hair waves all around her. She sits down by the tree that’s almost next to the entrance, her head and back against the wooden base. She closes her eyes. She doesn’t need sunglasses.

“Hey, lovely.” She hears Stan saying and she squeezes one eye open to look at him. Her face is scrunched up due to the sun rays and she looks ever so cute in his eyes. Stan smiles wide and walks over to her on his slightly wobbly, but firm legs. She’s always loved his stance.

Y/N spreads her legs a little, her dress stretching along, and patting her lap. Stan giggles and gladly slays down in her lap, his head resting on her stomach. She gets a bit more comfortable, sliding down a little. For both their comfort. Her hands lay over his shoulders, palms on his chest and he reaches upwards with his hands to hold them. Her fingers are just as small as his own, but more slender.

“When are we leaving for camp again?” Stanley asks, looking up at his girlfriend. 

“Um… August 5th.” She says and slowly retracts her hands from Stanley’s, going up in his hair instead. 

“Then we still have three weeks to pack.” He states and his eyelids drop at the feeling of her fingers going through his curls, gently touching his scalp. “Is there anything we need to take with us?”

“Nothing except for a blank, white t-shirt.” Y/N responds. Her fingers are parting his curls here and there, admiring how beautiful they look in the sunlight. Shining like the curls of an angel from heaven. He looks like an angel, and he is in all possible ways. “I bet you five bucks we’re gonna make tie-dye shirts for ourselves.” She states.

Stan giggles, holding his stomach. “You—You don’t even have five bucks.” He points out. Y/N joins him in laughing, both their laughter audible from inside the clubhouse. “Why do you think tie-dye?” Stan questions.

Y/N shrugs. “White shirts. Camp. Camp activities. Maybe we’re gonna be painting on the shirts or something.” She wonders. His hair strands feel like ribbons around her fingers and hands. She could spend her whole life threading through the curls, watch as they grow longer until Stanley starts looking a bit like a dog with fur. She laughs inwardly at that.

“If we are, I’m gonna paint a Bohemian Waxwing.” Stan decides. 

“Oh, the pretty birdie with the grey, white and red feathers?” Y/N cheers and feels Stanley nodding his head under her hands. “That would be really pretty. Maybe you could paint more than one, as if they’re sitting in a tree or on a… an electric wire. You know, the classic scenery.”

Stan chuckles and nods again. “That would be really cool.”

“It would be the coolest shirt ever, babe.” She tells him. 

“What would you paint on the shirt, love?” Stan questions and turns to lay on his back in her lap, taking her hands from his hair gingerly. He places his palms flat out against hers and, as they’re looking at each other, he bends his fingers so that their hands are interlocked.

“Your eyes, I think.” She admits, looking into those hazel jewels. “Or your eyes and hair.” Stanley blushes, and he’s not ashamed to show his crimson cheeks. He doesn’t hide anything form her. He smiles wide. 

“It wouldn’t exactly be fair to you that I’m painting a bird and you—me.” He states in a quiet voice. Y/N reaches her left palm to his curls again, brushing them off his forehead, behind his ear. 

“Well, really, it could be anyone.” She says. “Only you and I would know it’s you. And that’s okay, I’ll forgive you.” She smiles, chuckling for a second. “You’re better at drawing birds than people.”

“Hey!” Stan pokes her arm, but not too harshly. 

“We both know it. In fact, all of us do.” Y/N justifies. Stan rolls his eyes, but there’s still a smile on his face. “It’ll come with time, baby.”

“I’m gonna need more tutoring from you, then.” Stan then tells her and sits up to her level. His hand reaches for her hair behind her ear, his thumb soothing over her cheek. She almost falls into his hand, loving the touch. And even if her hair is beyond ugly today, she doesn’t protest him touching her hair.

Stanley keeps his eyes on her, a peaceful lovingness in them. The sun on them is so warm they both feel like falling asleep on the spot. Stan pulls her lips to his in a slow, tender kiss. She puts her hand around the wrist he’s holding her head with and pulls apart their lips. Their foreheads rest against one another. 

“With kissing like that you can expect much more than tutoring.” She tells him and they both giggle. 

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” He asks, his fingers twirling a curl of hers between them. 

“Well… Dinner with my family.” Y/N responds and bites her lip immediately, anxious about Stanley’s response. He withdraws from her, eyes wide and eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Th-They want to invite me over for dinner?” He questions. Y/N raises her eyebrows, too, slightly. 

“My parents do want to meet the boy who I’m going to camp with.” She says. “And I think I’m finally ready to tell them about you. Like, about being together.” She tells him, looking down at her hands due to her shyness. But Stanley smiles so wide he even lets out a laugh of happiness.

He gives his girl many kisses on both her cheeks, making her blush and giggle uncontrollably. She tries to push him off her, but she can’t find the strength to and stays in her boyfriend’s embrace and wrath of kisses until he stops. 

“I’m so happy.” Stan says, pressing his cheek against Y/N’s while he hugs her close to him. “Happy for you. Happy for us.” He tells her and Y/N can only smile to herself. Her hands are loosely hanging around Stanley’s neck and fingers again threading into her curls. “Oh, my goodness.” The young man suddenly gasps and Y/N looks up at him. 

“What? What is it?” Is something wrong? Does he not want to come over for dinner? Is he afraid of her family?

“I don’t know what I’m going to wear.” Stanley says with theatrical fright in his eyes and face. Y/N narrows her eyes at him out of simple annoyance that he scared her a little. Taking what they’ve all been through, a fake scare could still be a scare. 

“I suggest you come in your swimming trunks. That’ll make a good impression.” She tells him, paying back for a false alarm from him. The statement makes Stanley blush and he clears his throat. 

“Right-o.”


	9. Foreign Taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stanley Uris comes over to Reader's house for dinner with her and her parents.

Stanley has no allergies, Stanley has no foods that he doesn’t eat. The boy likes anything that tastes good on his tongue, and that is everything out of the food list of the world. He especially enjoys exploring cuisines from foreign cultures, and has always wanted to try out making some foreign dishes himself, at home. But the meals he’s given at home or the school cantine taste as good, only there’s no excitement of eating anything new.

Y/N’s family are of baltic origin. Stanley really knows nothing about the baltic nations or countries (one), since his History teacher says they are still in the Soviet Union. By choice or not, it’s a horrible way to live, as far as he’s read in his fourteen-year-long life. But from what Y/N has told him and what he knows, the baltic nations have their own cultures, traditions and cuisine. He’s excited to find what he’ll be eating at her girlfriend’s house tonight.

He’s never been at Y/N’s house. No, scratch that, he has never been at Y/N’s to meet her parents. He’s sneaked through the window of her bedroom multiple times, sure, but never have Y/N’s parents Ruth and Paul had knowledge of such visits. The young couple have kept it a secret, always giggling and then shushing each other, but giggling again. Stanley’s never officially been to her house, and it does feel different to walk through the front door.

They’ve been going out for months now, but neither of them are really keeping count. Why should they? Love lasts forever, and they’re young, they have all the time in the world.

Stanley is a little nervous, but by and large that’s his regular self. There’s no time to think about being anxious now, when he’s sitting at the actual dinner table. Stanley is, surely, smiling. He’s happy to be here finally, more happy than he is nervous, and he smiles naturally, kinda out of instinct.

“Tell me again,” Stanley starts to say, a sheepish look on his face and his eyes squinted at Y/N’s parents. They only give him awaiting smiles in return, ”about your baltic origins.” Stanley finishes his request. Ruth chuckles and exchanges a look with her husband.

They can hear that the boy is actually interested, and that he’s not just asking the question to make conversation with them to spare their ears of the uncomfortable silence.

The dinner had started with herb tea. A herb Ruth grows in her garden, one of many. These seeds she was given to by her mother when she was a little girl. You could buy the same tea in shops, but it’s different and better in taste, and practicality, when it’s grown from the earth with the history of your family. It was linden tea with honey. A magnificent combination, Stanley must admit.

Ruth said there are many traditional meals in her motherland that she could present, but each have their own occasion. Christmas, Easter, Midsummer’s Eve, even New Years and birthdays. Since this is no such event, she chose a traditional food that her nation puts on the table whenever the ingredients are all that’s left at home.

This meal is herrig with potatoes and curd, an occasional dill between the curd drops. Fish isn’t an exciting thought for any regular teenager, but since nor Stanley, nor Y/N fall into that category, they like the dish. Y/N has had this meal many times, and it’s one of her favorites. And Stanley doesn’t think he’s actually had herrig before, so he’s excited to know what it tastes like.

“My mother’s a latvian, she was born and grew up there.” Ruth tells Stanley, and the boy listens with eager ears. “Just like my dad. A few years after I was born,” the mother sighs, “the Second World War had barely started, and there were these… deportations happening. They were just taking people out of their homes, not really explaining anything, and taking them on trains to Russia.”

“I’m sure your father’s told you what it’s like.” Paul points his fork to Stanley, and the boy nods.

“Dad’s told me everything there is to know about hebrew history.” He tells Paul, and he hums.

“Stanley is a walking encyclopedia, really.” Y/N says and pats Stanley’s shoulder, smiling. The boy blushes, but cracks a smile either way, he leans closer to Y/N. She lays a kiss on his cheek and they both turn back to hearing Ruth’s story. Y/N also wanted to say that she loves hearing Stanley talk to her about hebrew history, even though it was sort of an obligation for the boy from his father.

Ruth and Paul look at each other once again, sharing one of those special, intimate looks they’ve had even before marriage between themselves. They have nothing against Stanley or Y/N being with him, and they love seeing these two kids together. They fit together like two pieces, one built for the other from the start. Paul is very glad of their union, the boy has turned Y/N’s world around. He’s been the main source of happiness for her ever since they met. Stanley could say the same about Y/N, in terms of his own happiness.

“So, when the deportations started, my parents acted before the russians could. We travelled out of the country by another train first, and then by a ship.” Ruth continues. She bears another long sigh.

“If it’s a difficult topic, you can–” Stanley starts to say, sensing that the woman might not be comfortable with talking about fleeing her motherland.

Ruth shakes her head, and so does Paul, Stanley notices. “It’s not, don’t worry, Stanley.” She says, and gives Stanley another smile.

“Just a lot to remember.” Paul adds.

“Well, the ship was shot down, and went under the water. We were among the few who survived and we travelled a few boats and cargo box doors. We sailed over the ocean.”

“You’re very brave.” Stanley means his words when he speaks.

“I had relatives living not so far from here, and my family travelled over here a bit before Ruth’s did. We went on a sort of holiday to visit the family.” Paul continues with his own part of the story. “We met in high school. Right?” He looks to his wife, afraid he might have got the time wrong.

Ruth nods, and there’s a happy expression on her face. “Senior year was when we started talking.” She adds. “My mother still lives here with my father, we actually bought both our parents a house to live together in.”

“Really?” Stanley’s eyebrows raise. They must be really old people now, he concludes. Paul nods.

“They live in Lewiston. We visit when we can.” Paul says.

“And do both your parents speak latvian still?” Stanley questions.

“Oh, no doubt about it.”

“I don’t think a person ever forgets their mother language, no matter how many years have passed. Ain’t that right, ma?” Y/N speaks.

“Tieši tā.” [Tee-eh-she tah] (That’s right.)

“Was that the latvian language?” Stanley gets excited, which makes Y/N giggle.

Her mother’s been teaching her latvian since she was a little kid, reading her books and folk stories, and even singing lullabies in latvian. The family often interacts in the language between the three of them. When they visit Y/N’s grandparents, the whole family speaks only latvian, even though they know english. They prefer the latvian language over english.

“You bet your fur.” Y/N says and nudges Stanley’s side, which makes him smile and poke her hand with his.

“This actually feels like… I don’t know, might sound weird, but the curd with potatoes taste like the countryside.” Stanley tells Ruth and Paul.

“You’re on the right track there!” Paul raises his fork. 

“That’s exactly what it should taste like.” Ruth tells the young boy and he nods, his eyebrows raised.

When the herrig with potatoes and curd have been finished, Stanley and Y/N help Ruth clear the table. Not before thanking her parents for such deliciousness, of course. Paul approaches Stanley while he’s washing the stained plates in the sink.

“Say, son,” Paul starts to say, “what kind of music do you listen to?” While he speaks, the man takes dessert bowls from the cupboard above Stanley’s head. The boy pauses in his tracks for only a second. He must say he’s pleasantly surprised by Paul’s question. No grown up, not even a teacher or his own parents, have ever asked him this. And Stanley realises he’s been dying to talk about music.

He and Y/N listen to the same music, basically. Every artist, every album, every track is their together-favorite, as they put it. They always sit in the Clubhouse and sing together. Though some tracks Stanley keeps to himself, some special tracks. They make him think of Y/N, and that’s why he keeps them. In case he’s had a bad day, or for when he’s sick and Y/N can’t visit. Those he likes best.

“Uh, well–I don’t know. I listen to a lot of different artists.” Stanley responds, and hears Paul grunt approvingly. “Most songs are on the radio. But I have a lot of vinyls at home from my mother.”

“Like what? The Beatles?”

Stanley nods. “Yeah, them, Elvis Presley, and a lot more. We have something from each decade, I think, and also classical music.”

“Oh, very nice! Very nice, indeed.” Paul nods now. “Listen to those often?”

“Yeah. I like classical. Especially when I’m studying.”

Paul grins. “You’re a very good young man, Stanley.” He tells the boy. Stanley feels proud of himself. He’s done good in Y/N’s father’s eyes, and he’s proud. “Say, how would you like to go to a concert with her some time? Some artist you both like?” Paul asks, and Stanley raises his eyebrows upon looking at him. “Now, I don’t know a lot of the modern artists you kids listen to, but I can look into it for a concert.”

“Mr Y/L/N, that’d cost a fortune.” Stanley says, although this idea does sound exciting to him. But he couldn’t take the offer. Concerts aren’t a cheap thing, never mind going to another state to the show and staying at a hotel.

“Don’t worry about money, son! I’d do anything for my daughter. Plus, I have friends in a lot of businesses - music, movies, all that.” Paul says to Stanley. “It could be–it could be like a Christmas gift for the both of you.”

Stanley’s silent for a second. He wants to think it over and he doesn’t want to seem too eager about the idea. Sounds silly, but it’s some form of anxiety in him. “Sure. That’d be great, Mr Y/L/N. That would be really great.” Stanley finally says, and he feels Y/N’s father gripping his shoulders with his arm.

“It’s Paul to you, Stanley.” The man says, gives Stanley a smile and walks out of the kitchen, the dessert bowls clattering softly between his hands. The partial-hug was the kind of gesture that makes you feel warm, makes you blush a little, and be a little happier with yourself. Stanley feels welcomed now, more welcomed into their house than he felt before, and he finishes washing the last plate.

“Curd again, sorry,” Ruth says as she places a big bowl full of dessert in the middle of the table. She’s got a wide smile on her face, that woman is always smiling, just like her daughter. They look very alike, Stanley sees that now.

“It must have range, then,” Stanley says, “a good thing.” She looks at Ruth and she’s delighted by his answer.

“We have ourselves a gourman.” Paul cheers Stanley on. “Ever tried cooking yourself, Stanley?”

“Now and then, I make lunch or dinner for myself.” Stanley says.

“Your apple pie was so good! The one you made for Eddie’s birthday.” Y/N says cheerfully.

“Oh, right. That was a success.”

“A man in the kitchen.” Ruth says. “Something I’d like to see with my own two eyes sometime.” She nudges her husband’s side, and he responds with a roll of the eyes and a cheeky grin. The foursome share a laugh and delve into a traditional latvian dessert moments later.

Altogether, spending an evening with Y/N and her parents was a evening spent well. The married couple let Stanley stay the night (after he asked his parents over the phone) and the four of them sat merrily in the sofa, watching some comedy that was on TV tonight.

Y/N had held Stanley’s hand and laid between his arms as they watched the telly. Her parents were in a similar position. Ruth sat next to Stanley and Paul - next to his wife. During commercial breaks, Stanley had a lot of questions about the latvian culture and language. Ruth and Paul were even starting to teach him words from the language.

The pronunciation was the difficult part. Stanley recognised the language as one from the balto-slavic group. They were taught language classifications in History class once, and Stanley remembers them perfectly. A lot of bending and combining vowels, strange consonants with “y” mostly behind them as some sort of helping tool. But Stanley was too curious to pay attention to the difficulties of pronunciation.

At the end of the night, a word in latvian Stanley found particularly beautiful to say, was muttered to Y/N’s parents as all four of them still sat on the sofa.

“Paldies.” [Pal-dee-ehs] (Thank you.)


	10. Stand By Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader has heard the end of how Richie makes fun of Stanley, and she will stand up for him if he can't do it himself.

The two had been best friends since the first day of primary school. No, wait. Kindergarden? No, no, it was definitely primary school. The very first day. 

Someone at lunch had picked on the poor little curl-head Stanley Uris, and Y/N Y/L/N didn’t want him to be sad all day, so she sat down at his table and offered him a muffin her mom had made for her. She actually made two, as if she was planning such a sharing event. 

Stanley had smiled, although reluctantly and distrustingly, and accepted her kind muffin offer. He told her that he didn’t have anything to give back to her, but she shook her head and told him that he doesn’t need to. And that’s how they became friends, really. It happened so simply, but they would find out much later that it would last a lifetime.

She was who he met before his now-best friends. She was his first ever friend, and he’d given her the title of his best, best, best friend. Not like Bill, Richie and Eddie weren’t his best friends, but she was different.

Y/N was someone who really listened, who understood, who supported, who hugged and held, who was always nice and polite and quiet. She was someone who never took anyone or anything for granted, but wasn’t always treated the same. She always took care of her friends, sometimes took the blame and apologised when it was not her place. 

She was a much nicer person than, say, Richie Tozier. He may be brave and smart and quick-thinking and could throw an insult a bully’s way when it’s needed, but his insults didn’t stop there. He also used them on Stanley and his other friends. 

It would’ve been sort-of managable if it was only Richie, but Eddie joined in most times. He’d snicker and throw a comment of his own all because he wanted to look cool in front of Richie. Why still, after they’ve been close friends for a long time? No one can really say. Y/N suspects there’s some sort of fancying going either both or one way between the brunettes.

Stanley’s Bar-Mitzvah was coming up and the boy did his best to read his Tora. Yet his father was still asking too much, setting too high standards for his own son, expecting a perfect, emotionless and obeying child instead. Stanley can’t carry out this made-up persona his father has created and has to somehow face the consequences.

That’s why he doesn’t want to be home and would much rather spend time with his friends. They’ll be different, right? Yeah, of course. If only they wouldn’t be teasing him about every little thing they can find. 

“Urin!” Richie calls once he sees Stanley coming over to them, crossing the empty street. Stanley sighs, as if on cue, already used to it, but still hating the nickname. Out of all the surnames in the country, his parents had Uris. Why, why, why?! 

Stanley waves to Bill, Eddie, Y/N and, reluctantly, Richie as he comes closer. “Hey, Stan.” They all say to him in unison, but Y/N’s voice stands out with its tenderness. She gives him a smile when he looks at her and he appreciates it, blushing lightly.

“Where are we going?” Stan asks to his friends since he’s started following them in a certain direction.

“To your mom’s place.” Richie says, the words coming out of him almost automatically.

“To-to my house.” Bill tells him the actual answer, and Stanley nods. “I fuh-found a board game in-in the basement.”

Okay, then. Playing board games was not a favored activity for Stanley. He hated that someone always messed up where the game figures were standing and also the constant bickering between Eddie and Richie. Seemed like they could argue about anything. Once they almost started physically fighting over the color of a small field in the game. It was complete nonsense.

“How did your reading go?” Eddie asks Stan and for a second, the jewish boy thinks his friend’s question is caring and genuine. 

“Like always.” Stanley responds, not wanting to go into detail. It indeed was the same as always, boring and saddening. Y/N looks at him, realising that his dad has talked to him in his regular way again. It’s not a surprise to her, what surprises her is that people can actually be mean just because they want to, like Mr Uris.

“Oh, no,” Richie starts and Stan can simply hear the sarcasm in his voice, “were the candles moved two millimeters from their original place?” He asks with a mock-sad expression and imitates a tear running down his cheek. Stanley only rolls his eyes. 

Y/N eyes the boy with glasses with a nasty, narrowed stare. “No, I bet his dad moved them closer to the edge right in front of Stan.” Eddie argues and laughs with Richie. 

Y/N sees Stanley trying to keep a straight face and trying to keep his thoughts to himself, his fingers scrunching up in fists and then releasing again. She waits for Bill to say something or shush his friends, but he doesn’t. Well, he couldn’t get the words out right if he wanted to, truth be told.

“Shut up, you guys.” She says and the boys turn to look at her, surprised. The group stops in their tracks, Richie and Eddie looking at Y/N with confused glares. “Stop talking to him like that. How can you do that? You’re no better than Bowers and his gang.” Y/N spits at them, clearly very angry at the way her best, best friend is treated by their own friends.

She takes Stanley’s hand in hers and walks to the side of the street, Stanley coming with her, checking if there are any cars driving down. There aren’t, and so she uses this opportunity to cross the street. Stanley’s a bit confused about where she’s taking him, but figures she’ll explain in a second. 

“W-Wait!” Comes the stranded yell of Bill, but Y/N doesn’t listen. “Y/N! Co-come back!” She hears that and laughing from Richie.

“What a pair of pussies.” He says, laughing so hard he has to hold his own stomach. Eddie frowns.

“I think we went too far…” The boy admits, looking worriedly between Richie and Bill. “Maybe we should go after them.”

“If they wanna go, they can go. It’s not our problem they can’t take a joke.” Richie simply tells his friends and continues walking down the street. 

“But it-it’s mean.” Bill states, which makes Richie look at him in disbelief. 

“Yeah, Rich, I think we hurt Stan’s feelings.”

“No, we didn’t! We say things like that all the time and he doesn’t say anything.” Richie points out. 

“It doesn’t mean that you haven’t done any harm!” Y/N yells from across the street, still hearing the three boys talking. Small town, quiet and empty streets. The three look at her. She’s stalking down the sunny pavement, Stanley’s hand gripped tight in a hold. “All you do is pick on him and he takes it all! Because no matter what he’d say, you wouldn’t stop!” 

The three boys fall silent. “I’m sorry!” Eddie is the first to call out, but to no avail. Y/N and Stanley have turned a corner and no longer want to deal with the other three, making their own path. 

After a block or two, when she’s sure the other three can’t hear them or see them, Y/N stops walking and so does Stanley. “Thanks, Y/N, for doing that.” He tells her and she looks at him for a moment. “It is true what you said.”

She nods. “I just see how you’re… You’re not saying anything when you should be, Richie should be called out for his so-called jokes, which are very mean.” She tells him. “But I know why you won’t. And that’s okay.”

“Yeah.” Stanley smiles, feeling encouraged. “Because I have you.” He states and Y/N nods. She leans her head on Stanley’s shoulder and they link hands together again. 

“I just don’t understand how they can be mean to you, their best friend.”

“Richie’s like that with all of us, you know that.”

“I know, but… It doesn’t make sense.” Y/N shakes her head and lifts it from Stanley’s shoulder. “And Bill isn’t saying anything to stop him, either. It’s weird.”

Stanley shrugs. “It’s just the way it’s always been. Bill feels like it’s not his place to say something.” 

Y/N sighs. “Let’s hope he does, eventually.” She says. “But don’t take Richie’s words to heart, okay?”

“Quite late for that.” Stanley says, widening his eyes for effect. “Um, where are we going exactly?” He questions then. Y/N grins.

“I figured we could go to my house and have fun in the pool or whatever. Mom isn’t home yet.” She tells him. “You know, have more fun than they will.” 

Stanley nods with a pleased smile. “I’d love that.” He says.

The two best friends, now feeling giddy and excited, start skipping to get to Y/N’s house quicker, already anticipating what awaits them there. Oh, Stanley would love to play with the dogs, too. 

At least Stanley doesn’t have to worry about anything, anything at all, in front of Y/N. He doesn’t need to pretend, he doesn’t need to hide behind a facade or a mask. She makes him feel free. No one else can. Stanley’s very greatful that she is his best friend.


	11. Memories Are The Mind's Photos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stanley Uris and Reader spend a day at the Arcade with their friends, and it ends in them taking photos alone in the photo booth.

Oh, Richie just had to drag them to the Arcade. The hyper trashmouth just wanted his friends to go along with him there. It’s not like he had an idea of what they could do with him, he simply wanted them to see how good and great and the best he was at playing Street Fighter.

Eddie, really, was the one who convinced the whole group to actually come. They wanted to go to the Quarry or ride around on their bikes, but Richie just needed his friends to come with him. They settled for a fair deal - they do what he wants for a day, and some other day, he’d do whatever it is that they wanna do. Richie was fine with it, already suspecting he’d be regretting the deal later.

But after all, the group couldn’t complain about spending an almost ten hours at the place. They found something to do and, luckily, the horrible Henry Bowers and his goons were out of town for the day. Doing God knows where and what–probably pestering a near-by village or riding around in Bowers’ car, drinking and yelling profanities. It’s what they were best at.

Arcade games were fun, for a while. Y/N, Stanley, Ben, Beverly, Mike and Bill and Eddie, too, got hungry after a few hours of playing already. Richie was unstoppable. He was playing and playing, and playing, and playing until, his friends thought, he would drop to the ground. But he never did. He never sat down or stopped.

They left their friend for a short while to get some food in the near-by grocery store. Just to keep them going and in a good mood for a little while. They got some bananas, chips, sandwiches… Even brought Richie some. He only grabbed a handful of chips and said ‘thanks’ and kept on playing. 

“When I tell you he’s addicted…” Eddie said to his friends, shaking his head and growing big eyes. The Losers agreed that they should maybe do something about this, but decided to talk it over in the other room, the board-game room.

Y/N is quite the intovert, so to play new board games with people she didn’t know very well (most from other towns) was an obstacle. One she had to cross at some point.

She clung to Stanley, mostly his arm, during the games. “Don’t worry,” he’d said, “we can be a team, the two of us. You’ll learn eventually and play by yourself.” He’d encouraged her. 

She’d look at him, her eyes big and her cheek smushed into Stanley’s soft shirt-covered shoulder, her hands around his thin arm. Stanley had smiled at his love. “What if I never want to play by myself?”

“Well,” he wanders, looking off, but he’s quick to look back at Y/N, “I can’t see anything bad in that. Okay, let’s look at the rules.” He’d said then, taking quite a used booklet of the board-game's “Alias” rules and trying to read the faded printed words.

She’d watched him perform the “Silent Theatre”, as it was called that day, perfectly. It’s like Stanley was better at showing with hands and talking with his eyes and facial expressions than with words. They almost felt un-necessary now, as she watched him take on different roles and concepts. It’s like he was made for it. Perhaps he’d been a good silent movie actor, back when they were still in the making and requested. Or he could be an actor in general. 

But Stanley was good with writing, too. And numbers. He was such a smart person, Y/N was jealous in every way. She felt he had everything that she lacked. The looks, the brains, the behavior. Stan would tell her it’s nonsense, but still listen to every doubt of hers that she could tell him.

“It’s… A draw!” The strange boy from New Jersey state announced, looking between Beverly and Stanley. They smiled at each other, laughed, and shook hands as both got the same amount of points and were considered winners. No hard feelings and no competing. Neither of them were ever really keen on winning in general, either. “Congratulations! You win nothing.” He says, which makes everyone laugh, including Y/N. She was supporting Stanley through out the many rounds of the game. It was time for an activity change.

“How do your parents just… give you the money without asking a hundred questions?” Eddie had questioned. “Ooh, you know, maybe it’s all part of a bigger plan.” He wondered. Y/N laughed. She was standing before her friends and handing them the cinema tickets she had just bought. One for Richie, who finally got pulled away from his Street Fighter machine, one for Eddie, one for Bev, for Ben, for Bill, for Mike, and finally, two for her and Stanley. 

Beverly had scoffed. “She’s very lucky in the parents and money department, let’s not jinx it, Eds.” She told her friend.

The hypochondriac looked at Beverly, wanting to comment on her use of his not-supposed-to-use nickname, but decided against it, keeping quiet and starting to, for the hundredth time each day, bug Richie.

“Th-thanks for the tick-tickets, Y/N.” Bill had said, really meaning his words. Y/N had shook her head and smiled.

“It’s nothing, Bill.” She’d said. “You don’t have to pay me back.”

“I wish we could. You’ve been taking us everywhere that costs money and it’s not fair.” Mike had joined in. Y/N had shook her head again and linked arms with Stanley, resting her head on his shoulder once again. Only this time, it’s the other shoulder she finds a resting place for her head on. Even if they were walking, now towards the only movie hall in the town and in the Arcade, she could feel at peace while her head layed against Stanley.

“When we’ll be rich and handsome,” Richie started to say, “we’ll pay you back.”

“Pshh, speak for yourself.” Stanley responded. “I’m already handsome.” He had then stated, causing the Losers to break into giggles and chuckles. 

“That’s right.” Y/N had agreed. “And don’t you all laugh at my handsome boy!”

“Handsome he is, rich he… isn’t quite yet.” Ben pointed out. 

“Oh, yeah, we’re actually waiting for you to make us all rich, Ben, when you become a world-class architect!” Eddie stated. 

“I bet he could buy you all the medicine in the world, Eddie.” Beverly teased with a chuckle. 

“And the women.” Richie added, winking.

“Not to worry about that, I already have your mom.” Eddie wittily replied, which caused the two brunettes to have a small quarrel of who is marrying and sleeping with whose mom. Stanley had rolled his eyes, but chuckled when he saw Y/N laughing. 

The sequel of Ghostbusters was an excellent comedic movie filled with the paranormal things, too, of course. Most of the Losers gave it a 10, except those who weren’t a fan of these sort-of movies. Beverly, Mike, Bill. They somehow liked much more serious movies, like dramas or biographical ones. Sometimes musicals, but more Mike than anyone else.

Y/N could say the same about herself. She loved historic movies, biographics, dramas, movies based on books or true stories… But she also wanted to laugh so much her tummy hurt from time to time, and what better way to do it if not watch a comedy with her friends. They all had great sense of humor, so there was no worry of not having fun or no laughter.

“Okay, I have to go, guys.” Eddie says. “Time to go home. Anyone wanna go together?”

“I’ll go with you.” Richie says, stepping closer to his best friend.

“Me-Me too. Still have to–have to clean my room.” Bill joins in. Beverly looks at the clock on the wall, and Mike’s head turns the same direction. It’s half past eight in the evening.

“It’s getting late, anyway.” Ben says and the six friends all head to the exit. 

“Well, till tomorrow, then!” Y/N calls out to her friends. They turn their heads to look at her and Stan. They both wave at their friends as a good-bye, and they return the gesture.

Beverly’s got a knowing grin on her face. She knows the pair love every second to spend alone together, so when the rest of the Losers Club decide to part ways with them, they’re sappy. Sad, but delighted, you know? 

Stan looks at Y/N and, after admiring her so very beautiful and soft features, he kisses her forehead. Slowly, savouringly. As if she’d be gone in a second. As if she’s a dream he wants to hold onto. And it really feels like she is.

Y/N hums at his sweet kiss and smiles. She opens her eyes and grips his hand a bit tighter. “Do you maybe wanna take some pictures in the booth?” She asks, wandering aloud her thoughts. Stan closes his eyes, letting himself smile, too. It’s a kind of smile you maybe want to hide, don’t want it to show, but it breaks out. He agrees that it’s the best kind of smile. It usually happens after crying, when crying or in sweet moments like these. An embrace, a peaceful situation, a sunny afternoon.

“Babylove,” he starts to say, “you’ve already spent too much money on me and our friends.” Stan argues. Y/N sighs.

“We’re taking the pictures.” She just decides after contemplating whether to say 'it’s no big deal’ for the hundredth time or to say something else. Holding Stan’s hand, she walks them both over to the photo-booth and slides in a few coins to take four photographs.

“What do you want us to do in the pictures?” Stanley asks and she looks at him. She shrugs.

“Whatever. Nothing plastic, though. The more natural we are, the better it is to look at the pictures.” She says and goes through the curtain, Stan following her tracks.

The picture-taking process was a silent process of exchanging love between the two teenagers. Playful kisses here and there, hugs, giggles and wide smiles. More serious and meaningful kisses here and there. Really, whatever either of them felt like.

First picture. Stanley kissing the top of Y/N’s head, they’re holding hands and Y/N has a small, shy smile on her face. She’s also blushing a pink shade, but the black and white photo doesn’t let you see that.

Second picture. Stanley is looking down at Y/N, a dreamy look in his eyes as he tells her a joke. She’s laughing, smiling wide, her face stretched by the delightful expression. She’s looking at him, too.

The third picture shows a kiss between the two, both of their eyes closed. It’s a meaningful kiss, an emotional and intimate one. A deep kiss, if you might, but not physically. You can see how much they mean to each other in this picture. Pictures work their magic, you know.

The fourth picture, last, but not least. Y/N’s arms are around Stanley’s neck, she’s almost crawled on top of him. It’s a closer take than the first three, both their faces are naturally bright and laughing. Stan’s curls have covered half his forehead and partly one of his tight-shut eyes. Stanley’s eyes are closed because of how wide he’s smiling and because of how happy he is. Y/N’s, on the other hand, are wide and so is her smile. 

She wants to say that the fourth one is their best one, but she can’t say that. All four are the best. And they can make even more great pictures, but maybe some other time. They wanna go outside and also be at home at once. Or not home, exactly.

The houses their parents live in don’t feel like home as much as each other’s company does. Their houses are hollow, blue, silent, almost empty. No electric love or sunny happiness in the buildings. Yet, when they’re with each other… It’s a whole different thing. Being at home is like sleeping or being in a coma, but with each other it’s like they’re finally awake, finally alive.

Stan suggested they buy some ice cream, which he will be paying for, and then go to the park where they could play “Head and Tails” with a 50-cent coin to see who gets to keep which picture. Y/N had laughed at his wonderful idea and agreed, kissing him afterwards. She doesn’t need to home or her parents or their money as long as she has Stanley.


	12. Tears For Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader cradles Stanley after his horrible encounter with IT in the sewers alone.  
> Warnings: Quite sad and tearful.

“Stanley! Stanley!” 

All the Losers rushed over to their fearstruck and horribly frightened friend, who started thrashing around and screaming and crying once he realised his surroundings. Y/N gets to him the first, the closest, immediately reaching around his shoulders, trying to hold him.

“No! No! No! I hate you, I hate you all!” Stan continues screaming, crying. The liquid pouring down his cheeks the mixture of tears and blood and sweat. “You’re not my friends! You abandoned me! You made me go into Neibolt! You’re not my friends!”

His friends offer him many protests and arguments against his screams and anguish, but it doesn’t work. He’s convinced he hates them, that they left him alone on purpose, that they didn’t care. They’re all crying, hunched around him, holding him any place they can, offering a soothing touch.

Y/N is in complete shock and panic, holding her best friend from behind his back. Her arms are tightly secured around his shoulders. 

“Stan, we’d never let anything happen to you!” They tell him, hearts broken and eyes full of tears, voices shaking and breaking. Stan cries hysterically, his voice run down and hoarse.

Eddie notices Bill wandering off into the other end of the hallway and stands up, although his hand is still on Stan’s shoulder. “Bill!” The young boy calls out and Richie immediately looks where he is looking. So do the rest.

They left Stanley alone and look what happened to him. They can’t risk it with Bill, either. They all stand up, except Stanley and Y/N, who is bound to stay with her best friend until he’s totally okay. They wait for them, despite all of them being in deep fear and anxiety.

She wraps her arms around Stan and pulls his soft, little face into her neck, holding him ever so close to her. He cries and he sobs and he searches for breaths, for air to breathe. And something to hold onto. Her upper arms, as he continues to let out the experienced horrors. 

“Stan. Stan, Stan,” she starts to call out to him, through his crying. He doesn’t respond, so she cradles both his wet cheeks between her hands, bringing his face up to look at hers, “hey, lovely.” She whispers and looks into his tear-filled, scared eyes.

Stan still sobs, but he’s maintaining eye contact with Y/N, somehow. Hiccups start and she can’t help but smile at their entrance.

“Just look at me, okay?” She asks him, her own eyes full of fear and tears. Stanley doesn’t respond, he doesn’t nod or shake his head, he doesn’t say anything, but his sobs and cries have died down just a tad. 

Her hands gently touch his cheeks. The wounds are fresh and even her gentle presses extract pained cries and wincing from him. She cleans of the dripping blood, she wipes away the tears. 

She rids his soft skin of the substances, hoping she’s not hurting him too much. Her fingers are so soft and careful and graceful, taking up every little drop of blood and tears in them, soaking them into her digits. So that he doesn’t have to.

“Tell me what hurts.” She asks of him, begging with her eyes to hear an answer from him. He blinks a few times and clears his throat, also gets rid of his cute hiccups.

“My cheeks hurt. My throat.” He tells her, his voice a mere squeak. She immediately pulls him into her again, petting his hair soothingly. Y/N’s hand reaches out to his hand to hold, another soothing gesture to him. 

“It’s from the screaming.” She says. “You’re alright now.” She coos and though tears are still streaming down his face and fear is making his heart beat rapidly, Stanley doesn’t make a sound and lays cradled in her loving arms. “We all love you. And we’ll never leave you. We’ll never do a thing to hurt you.”

Stanley listens to her words and takes them to head and heart. He trusts her most of all, and he believes her.

“Grannies, we gotta go find Bill!” Richie yells at the two and they both close their eyes in quite the level of annoyance. It still blows Y/N’s mind that Richie can be such an insensitive prick most times. 

She slowly rises with Stan, both wobbly standing on their feet. Stan doesn’t want to let go of her hand. Fearing she might be taken away. Fearing something might take away him. Fearing that if they’re not holding onto each other, they’ll be gone from each other in a flash.

So he doesn’t let go of her hand as they catch up to the rest of the Losers. And she runs small circles into his skin with her thumb. And they don’t let go of each other’s hand when they enter IT’s residence, or when they see all the floating kids and their toys, or when they find Bill. They’re too afraid.


	13. Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader teaches Stanley how to dance the waltz.

Laughter and music fill the sunlit bedroom of Stanley Uris. Y/N’s fingers brush swiftly against the vinyl covers and her eyes scan every artist and album name. “Have you got any classical music?” She asks Stanley, speaking over the music.

Stanley was lightly reading his book, but he looks at her now. The sunrays bite his eyes tenderly. “I think I’ve got some…” He starts to say, but stops as he stands up and walks over to where Y/N is standing, “A few of my mom’s. Well, she gave me some that belonged to her.” Stanley finishes and his eyes scan the titles quite as curiously as Y/N’s does, both deep into finding what she’s looking for.

“Ah!” She gasps in wonder and lifts one out of the box. She places it on top of the others and lets the sun shine on it. “Tchaikovsky. The Nutcracker.” She reads the words on the cover. Y/N looks at Stanley then, biting her lip. “I love this whole ballet, but I love, love, love the waltz in this one.” She admits, presses the record to her chest and sighs, imitating a girl from a movie who’s just fallen in love. A small smile stretches Stanley’s lips upon seeing her joy.

They both move backwards from the box and Stanley lets her put on the record. Stanley realises he’s never actually put this one on before, so it will be something unheard for him. Y/N presses the “stop” button, carefully lifts the needle and then The Beatles record that was playing a second ago, and puts it on Stanley’s windowsill. He notes in his mind that if she doesn’t put it back in its cover soon, he will. Vinyls are quick to melt in the sunlight.

Y/N takes the Tchaikovsky vinyl out of its cover and puts it on the record player. She carefully and slowly puts the needle on the edge of the vinyl and her finger presses the “play” button. She takes The Beatles vinyl and puts it back in its cover—Stanley can be at peace—and back in its place in the vinyl box. The records are all neatly organised by genre and by years.

“Didn’t know you liked classical music.” Stanley admits before the first strings of violins can be pulled in Tchaikovsky’s score. Y/N looks at him.

“I love it.” She says then, looking down shyly. “I never tell any of you because it’s an adult and old-people thing. Everyone would make fun of me for it.” Y/N admits.

“I wouldn’t.” Stanley says truthfully. “I like classical, too, I just haven’t heard a lot besides what my mother sometimes plays on the piano or puts on the player.” Stanley shrugs and Y/N smiles. “I wouldn’t make fun of you, either way.”

She blushes lightly, and looks away. “This waltz is the first time my mom taught me the actual dance. God, I love dancing the waltz. But I never have anyone to dance with.”

“The waltz?” Stanley echoes and Y/N nods.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know how to dance the waltz!” She says, absolutely sure she’s being ridiculed by the boy. But then again, it’s Stanley she’s talking to. The boy never lies. Stanley shakes his head now, feeling as though not knowing how to dance the waltz is a completely normal thing. Y/N looks at him and then back at the record. Suddenly, there’s a spark in her eyes. “When the waltz comes on, I’ll teach you how to dance.” She suggests.

“No, I’m fine without knowing it.” Stanley says and chuckles, looking away.

“Come on, how are you going to ask girls to dance if you don’t know the most basic ballroom dance?” Y/N teases. Stanley sighs.

“I’ll just dance like Rick Astley. That’s what girls like.” He says.

“Well, he might be romantic, but girls actually do like the cliché dances and more romantic things in general.”

“Name one.” Stanley tells her, straight up not believing what she’s saying.

“Well, me.” Y/N says. “And lots of others.” Stanley laughs. After a while of tinkering and deciding between yes and no, he tells her his decision.

“Alright, teach me the waltz when it comes up.” He gives in. Y/N chuckles to herself, knowing he’d agree.

“You really planned to go to your first high school dance, ask a girl to dance with you and then move like Rick Astley does in his music video for “Never Gonna Give You Up”?” She asks, glancing at Stanley sideways.

“Well, yeah. Everyone loves Rick Astley and the way he dances.” The boy states, confident of his opinion. Y/N only bumps the boy’s shoulder with her own playfully, and the two carry on listening to Tchaikovsky and his musical tale of The Nutcracker.

The Waltz of the Flowers is the nineteenth piece in this Tchaikovsky record, so there needs to be some waiting done. Y/N and Stan use their time well. Stanley shows Y/N his favorite ornithology book, one that she and him both have looked through many times already, but still enjoy looking through. It’s like each time is the first one. For one, the book is huge. Two, Y/N can’t remember everything the book holds even with the amount of times she’s seen the pictures and read the texts. She needs to eat more dark chocolate for good memory.

“Oh, it’s coming up!” She exclaims when the previous piece nears its middle part and Y/N starts to rise from her laying down position. “Come on, let’s get up.” She ushers Stanley, who honestly had already forgot about the waltz thing. He gets up and puts his book in its rightful place on a shelf, then walks back over to Y/N.

“So, what do I do?” He asks, completely clueless in the matter. She takes his hands and puts his left hand on her waist, which makes him a little frozen, and the other she holds in her own. Her free hand Y/N puts on Stanley’s shoulder. The boy is visibly flustered.

“Right now you’re holding onto me as if you’re leading. But,” she raises her eyebrows, “I will be leading now. And when you’ve learned the whole dance, you will lead.”

“But that’s pointless. How will I know how to lead then?” Stanley asks.

“Ah, it’s easy, really. The whole thing is mirrored.” Y/N sighs shortly. Stanley nods, sticking a note to himself in mind, but he’s nervous. What if he’ll fail at the very start? What if he can’t dance? Like, at all? “So,” Y/N looks Stanley in the eyes, “waltz is counted by “one-two-three”. Technically you can make any song a waltz if the rhythm fits. On one, you put your right leg back and I put my left one forward. I’ll start.”

Her bare foot takes a small step forward, and Stanley immediately puts his right one to the back.

“Very good!” Y/N cheers. “Now you—this is a bit hard to explain, but easy to do—you put your left leg to the back, but don’t put it down. You sort of draw an angle with it, putting it more to the left.”

Stanley looks at her with worried eyes. She looks down at her feet.

“Like this.” She moves her right foot like she explained, and Stanley tries to do the same. “Yeah, yeah, like that. You’re doing great.” She smiles and Stanley blushes. He’s two steps in and proud of himself. “Okay, now let’s stop.” Y/N says and sighs quietly. Stanley relaxes a little and looks at Y/N. “This is like the first step in the waltz. You do the same step, but with the other leg.”

“Sounds fairly easy.” Stanley shrugs. Y/N chuckles at his optimism, but she knows it’s a good thing to have

“Regular waltz, yes,” she starts, “and your optimism is good. When you’ll be learning the Vienna Waltz, whoo…” she pretends to wipe sweat from her forehead and Stanley laughs, “it won’t seem as easy. But I’ll tell you later, the waltz is starting.”

Stanley had given her fearful, but admiring eyes and nodded. He followed her every direction and little nuance. He never knew both of them would be in this place, and he never would have guessed she can dance the waltz. It’s just a thought that had never crossed his mind. But Stanley likes this commotion.

After a few miss-steps and actually stepping on feet, Stanley and Y/N started to dance to the actual Waltz of the Flowers. Stanley decided he can do it, and he did. Y/N was just taken away by how well he danced, feeling as though she had awakened a hidden talent in Stanley. She had never had someone else to dance the waltz with, so the whole evening was wholesome and joyful for her. And for Stanley.

He felt much more confident with dancing now and actually asking a girl to dance on a possible school dance. Stanley didn’t know who he’d ask if the chance came up, but he was thinking of one particular girl. A girl who taught him to dance the waltz on a sunny September evening.


	14. Run, Rabbit, Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader has her first encounter with IT in the form of her deepest fear and Stanley is the first person she comes across after the terrifying encounter.  
> Warnings: horribly written fears and IT, panic attack.

A Thursday afternoon in Derry High. Sun rays break through the long unwashed windows of the building, classrooms with thick air due to lack of air-conditioning. Quiet halls and classrooms. There’s barely any soul in the high school left.

Y/N sadly got sick the previous week, so had to stay after classes to write a test she missed while sick. Her best friend Stanley was having piano lessons on Thursdays usually, enjoying the silence and desertment in the school building. He was the only pupil the music teacher taught piano, all the others uninterested or already good at piano. Most times Stanley even stayed until the sun started setting.

Y/N has just finished writing the test she missed out on last week and walks down the hall to the bathroom. She wants to change her hair before she leaves school today. Just get it out of the high ponytail and make a little one with the top half of her hair. A style that has suited her well her whole life. A signature hairstyle of hers.

She passes Stan’s piano lessons class room and hears what he’s playing very clearly. Anyone passing through this hallway would hear him playing, even from the other end. The music room has great acoustic in it. She smiles to herself and pushes the door of the girls’ lavatory open, hearing its squeaks behind her when she enters the empty room.

A public bathroom in its natural element stinks horribly, but she still winces at the horrible stench. Even if she’s got used to it by now. 

Y/N carefully puts her bag down on the floor, choosing a spot on the tiles that wasn’t covered in some suspicious liquid. It could be just water, but she doesn’t want to risk it. She sighs as she looks in the mirror. This has been a long day and she’s ready to head home.

She takes out her hair-tie and her scalp immediately breathes a sigh of relief. Today’s ponytail was definitely a tight one. Her hair almost cries at the release. She smiles to herself tiredly. 

As she starts picking out the hair strands to put up in a small bun, Y/N hears a sound similar to cracking, or maybe winding? Breaking? Where could it be coming from? She pays no mind to it, thinking someone’s breaking tree branches outside. 

The sound grows louder and Y/N furrows her eyebrows. Sounds like it’s… coming from beneath her. She’s a bit scared to check the floor, but when she does, she freezes in complete horror.

The former tile floor now looks like a forest’s bed and instead of where the pipes should be under the sinks, there’s wooden roots. Like the ones you see in the woods. Like the ones she’s always been afraid of all her life, since she was a little kiddie.

Y/N tries to grab her bag, not believing her eyes but also not wanting to stay any longer and see the elaboration of the pipe-roots. But she feels something snaking around her right ankle and as she looks down on it, she cries out. One of the roots coming from under the sink have locked around her ankle and is slowly making its way up her leg. 

Tears collect in her eyes and in such a big amount that they reach the brim and fall down on her cheeks, her dress, her hands and legs. She’s in such a state of fear that she can’t let out a sound. A silent panicking. 

She tries to wriggle her foot out of the plant’s grasp, but it’s tight as hell. Y/N does what she can with her other foot still relatively free, reaching for her backpack. She knows she has scissors in her bag, she had arts and crafts today during Home Ed. They’re in the outside pocket. 

Her right hand is suddenly stopped, captured by a root that’s coming out from the sink itself. Y/N’s eyes widen even more, almost popping out of her skull. Physical terror almost takes over, but she makes for her backpack with her free left hand.

The moment she’s got the scissors in her hand, she hears a giggle coming from behind her. Cold fright shakes her body. Should she even look behind her? Should she, for the best, close her eyes and wait for this nightmare to be over?

“Not such quick feet now, eh, Y/N?” An elderly, sort-of warped voice asks. It sends chills down her spine. No one even came in while she was here. Have they come through the window? And who are they?

She can’t help her curious eyes looking up in the mirror. There she sees the most disturbing image a child could ever be beared to see. An at least six feet long… person in a clown costume is standing right behind her. Their skin is the palest white you could imagine. The lips and nose and eyes are crimson red. She hopes to the Gods that it’s not blood on their face.

Their clown costume is dirty and very worn-out, looking decades old and over-used. The clown has orange hair that’s sticking in the air, and wears a menacing smile. Their eyes are so big they look about to burst out, especially when they’re each looking in their seperate direction.

Y/N screams and the clown laughs hysterically, and so loudly she feels like her ears and head would combust any second. She realises she needs to get herself free from the roots around her and bends down to start stabbing her scissors into the roots where they just barely are starting to wrap around her flesh. She’s careful not to leave any self-injuries in the process. But it’s hard to concentrate in this panic.

She’s screaming and crying, afraid to death of the situation she’s in. More and more roots start coming from all directions while the tall clown figure still laughs so horridly and terrifyingly. Y/N feels like she’s spent, that she can’t do this anymore, she can’t free herself, that she’ll give up and let whatever is bound to happen, happen. 

“Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run,” the clown starts to sing when she’s finally freed herself of all the roots and grabs her backpack, ready to make it out the door, “don’t give the farmer his fun, fun, fun! O-ho-ho!” The clown laughs again. 

Y/N stops at the restroom door, looking at the room before her in horror. It’s turning into a sort of nest, roots coming from every corner and inch, each of them wanting to grab onto some part of her. The clown stands right in the middle of it all, staring at her. She dodges the stretching roots best she can, but she won’t be able to hold back for any longer.

“He’ll get by without his Y/N-pie,” he continues, but his voice has dropped an octave or two, the smile no more on his horrid features, “so run, rabbit, run, rabbit,” he takes steps towards the young girl, terrifying her even more, “RUN! RUN! RUN!” He screams in the most agonising and horrible voice she’s ever heard, also running towards her with sharp teeth coming from his mouth and an evil grimace twisting his face. 

Despite what her better judgement might tell her later, she listens to the creature and really does run. Out the swinging door, into the hallway without looking back. She runs into the first safest room she knows. The music room.

She practically falls through the door with a big clutter noise and terrifies poor Stanley, who’s sitting alone at the piano. His eyes are wide and he jumps in his seat with a little shocked gasp. He looks upon the frightened Y/N. She’s almost fallen down to the floor, her back against the door, as if she’s holding it closed. As if someone might try to break in.

Stanley stands up and jogs over to her. “What’s wrong?” He asks, one hand out-stretched hesitantly to her. She looks at him.

“I was… I was… There were… All around me…” She tries to explain what’s just happened to her, but she makes no sense to Stan. He frowns. She looks scared, terrified. Her eyes are moving at rapid speed in every direction.

Y/N falls down on the floor, her knees against her chest and hands covering her face. In fear or embarrassment? Stanley immediately sits down next to her, legs crossed, and leans closer to her. He puts his arm around her shoulders in an attempt of an embrace and she goes in, letting the embrace happen. Needing it badly.

“There were the—the roots everywhere.” She cries. “Around my leg, around my arm. Trapping me, holding me. I couldn’t get out. They wanted to—they wanted to trap me, get in me. I couldn't—”

“You’re safe now.” Stanley tells her and soothes her with gently rubbing her back with his arm. 

“There was… There was a clown there.” She tells him. “In old clothes. With a white face and a horrible smile. He was singing.” Y/N says and breaks down in a seizure of cries and sobs. “And the roots wanted me! They wanted to get in me! Trap me!” She shouts.

Stanley tries to make sense of it all. Wonders if she was hallucinating, maybe someone drugged her? But no. What if it’s just like the woman he saw? What if she did see… roots? Whatever that could mean. But it was a nightmare. It’s not real. 

She can’t stop crying. She’s been exposed to her biggest fear and she can’t calm down. She can’t find any extra air to breathe, she feels like she’s suffocating, like she’s never going to calm down. It’s a feeling of… no hope that you’ll ever smile again. 

She can’t calm down for another five minutes, at least. But Stanley stays put, holds her and listens to anything she tells him. 

“Do you think it was a nightmare?” Y/N asks him in a quiet voice, looking afar. 

“I believe so.” He replies. “It can’t be real.” But is he trying to convince her or himself? Trying to calm himself down or, at last, her? “It was just like my nightmare with this… strange woman.” 

Y/N looks at him, slightly pulling apart from their embrace. Her eyes and cheeks are red, she looks lost and scared to death, still. “What woman?” She asks.

Stanley looks down. “My dad has a painting of a weird-looking woman in his office. She was trying to attack me when I was there to put the Tora back. Her face is all… twisted. She had teeth. I just ran.” He says finally and looks at her again. “But she’s not real. And what you saw isn’t real, okay? It was a bad, a really bad nightmare.”

She doesn’t nod, but she takes his word for it. “But why did I see all that? Why now?” She asks. Perhaps she doesn’t direct her question towards Stan, but to herself or something that could answer it. She sighs. “Sorry for scaring you.” Y/N apologises and sniffs. 

“Don’t worry. I understand.” He tells her in response. “Do you—do you maybe want to hear something?” Stanley offers with a kind smile. She nods. Stanley playing piano sounds calming to her, and he plays so beautifully, after all. 

Stanley helps her get up from the floor and gives her a tissue to wipe her face with, one from the tissue box he always has in the music room, lying around, just in case. Y/N takes her bag and puts it on a near-by desk. 

Stan gets her a chair to sit on, putting it next to the piano, and sits down on the pianist stool. She sits down and puts her arm on the piano, resting her head in the palm of it. She watches him play one of Chopin’s Nocturnes, watches his face change with every note he plays. He’s careful not to mess up at any point. But she wouldn’t think anything of it if he did. 

She feels peaceful, calm. The soft sounds of the piano playing in a completely empty room and, probably, building, calm her down and make her feel at peace with herself. 

Y/N has always been first in P.E. class. She’s competed in sprints and running competitions and marathons since she can remember. It’s one thing that gets her away from everyone else (quite literally) and from any thoughts that she’d find unwelcome - running. 

At one point in her secondary school years, she was running a kids marathon through the woods and tripped on a tree branch, getting her left foot stuck under a tree root by accident.

It was the first time she felt trapped. It was the first time she didn’t win the marathon. It was the first time she didn’t get any of the three first places. It was the first time she sprained her ankle. And the first time she felt genuenly scared for her life.

For her, it felt like the end of the world. It felt like no one would be coming to save her. But when they finally would come, the tree root would have already grown around and in her leg and stayed with her until the end of her life. She thought she’d have to live with a tree stuck to her, a root in her leg. She thought she’d never run again.


	15. Underwater (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader tries her hardest to swoon Stanley Uris with horrible pick-up lines, and she realises she has no hope. But Stanley is intruiged, actually.

Of course they decided to go to the Quarry again. It’s summer and they want to cool off and spend time together at some place. Besides, the Losers club feel more grown up as they’re all now turned fourteen-fifteen years old. Real teenagers now, as they liked to say.

Sadly, the group were beaten to a half of them going to the Quarry. Richie and Ben are supposed to be visiting their relatives. Mike was held back by his grandfather. The man has an opinion that Mike’s spending too little time at the farm. And Beverly… Well, she’s in Portland. 

Not even Bill knows how long she’ll be there or when she’s planning on coming back to Derry. His friends try not to talk about her in front of him and the Denbrough boy tries not to think about her leaving too much. Bill immediately gets sad and the whole mood of the conversation switches.

For a sort of mood lifter, Eddie brought a girl with him to the Quarry. He met her at a family reunion last month and they clicked off the second they started talking. Eddie’s sure she’s a relative of his, since it was a family reunion, and that doesn’t bother him in the least of ways. He’s delighted he met a new person when everything’s been the same in his life.

“Are you sure they won’t mind?” She questions for the hundredth time and Eddie rolls his eyes. “I mean, I’m a complete stranger.”

“Y/N, stop worrying about it when you should be worried about getting salmonella from that chicken you ate earlier today.” He responds. Y/N scoffs.

“I cooked it to the max, okay? I’m not gonna get Simon-Wella or whoever.” Eddie has to laugh at her incorrect pronounciation of the stomach desease. He no longer corrects her on it, knowing well enough that she won’t remember it for next time.

“There’s only three of us today, sadly.” He begins to say. “And, you know, we could do with a girl after Beverly left. Don’t bring it up in front of Bill, though.”

“I’m so lucky to be your substitute of sexual desires, thank you, Eddie.” She responds quite sarcastically. Eddie sighs, his head hanging low.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He says. “You could be a new member of our club and lift up the spirits of everybody. You’ll be fine.” He tells her and she silently agrees, though she still feels sort of weird about what he’s saying. 

“How long till we get there?” She asks. Eddie glances down at his wrist watch.

“Approximately—three minutes.” He tells her. 

Unfortunately, the girl couldn’t bring her bike for her stay in Derry since her family already had a lot to take with them and couldn’t make enough space for her bike in the trunk. So she hangs onto Eddie as they’re both on his bike. 

Eddie doesn’t speak it out loud, but the reason he really wants to bring Y/N along with him to the Quarry is because he misses Richie. She reminds him of Richie a lot. Her humor, her semi-covered up anxiety and fears. But she doesn’t have glasses and carries herself a bit differently, and also is more sensitive than Eddie’s best friend.

Y/N gasps when she sees the place they’ve arrived to. It’s so beautiful and quiet. She’s never been in a place like this, middle of nowhere, in the woods, no one in sight. And a beautiful lake, just for their use.

“Are we early?” She asks Eddie once they’ve got off his bike and put their bags down. 

“No.” Eddie sternly says. “Stan and Bill are just late.” He adds. Y/N huffs and looks around.

“I’m pretty sure we’re early.” She decides, and she is right. Eddie’s constant stress about every little detail of his life leads him to always show up to school, to parties, to any event, at least ten minutes prior. “Boy, is that high.” Y/N states. She’s standing at the edge of the cliff and looks down, her hands on her hips, and squints at the green water below the cliff and her feet.

“Don’t get too close!” Eddie calls out and jogs up to the girl. “We don’t want an accidental death here. We’ve had too many already. Six times the national average, have you heard?”

“Judging from the height, it could be a certain death, not an accidental one, for all of us.” Y/N points out.

“Nah, we’ve been coming here since we’re ten and have always jumped from here.” Eddie shakes his head. “Not the cleanest water on earth, though…”

“Eddie!” Two voices call out from behind them, in an almost-unison. Y/N and Eddie whip around to see who it is and Eddie grins. Bill and Stanley. They’re coming towards the already arrived two, pushing their bikes. Both have backpacks on their shoulders and smiles on their faces.

Y/N slides her sunglasses lower on her nose to really take a look at the two boys. She smiles, realising she’ll be meeting two new people today, perhaps two new friends. But her smile and face instantly freeze upon seeing the boy with a blue button-up and acorn curls. He immediately catches her attention, her heart and her mind. Will she know how to act properly now?

“Bill! Stan!” Eddie runs to his friends and embraces them both. The three boys are all smiling, so glad to see each other. They know it’s been a few days, but they can’t help but cherish every moment they spend together. Who knows how long the moments will last? “Hey, guys.” The boy says with the biggest smile still on his lips once pulling apart from his friends.

“Who’s this?” Stanley asks about Y/N standing a few feet from them. She waves and walks a bit closer. Bill looks at her, too.

“Oh, this is Y/N.” Eddie says and stands next to the girl. “We met at a family reunion, so we’re probably cousins by some degree, and she’s visiting for a few weeks and I thought I’d bring her along since there’s only three of us and… yeah.” Eddie seems proud about what he’s done, standing there with that exact smile and eyes. 

“N-N-Nice to me-meet you, Y/N.” Bill says and stretches out his hand for Y/N to shake. She smiles at the boy.

“Hi. Bill, right?” She clarifies and although she tries to keep her focus on the boy, her eyes flicker to the one next to him for mere milliseconds. Bill nods. They retract hands, still smiling, when Stanley speaks up.

“I’m Stanley.” He says. “But everyone calls me Stan, so you can do that, too.” His hand is out-stretched, as well, and Y/N shakes it with her own already shaky hand. She hasn’t felt shaky hands and a stomach full of butterflies in forever. She also can’t stop looking at him, and Stan feels the polite handshake has been dragging on for too long. 

“Hi.” Y/N coos. “Oh my, there must be something in my eye.” She sighs and takes her hand from Stanley’s grasp to rub her eyes with them. Eddie immediately goes over to her, trying to look at her face. 

“Why? A crumb? A piece of dirt?” The hypochondriac asks.

“Does it hurt?” Stanley asks, and Bill joins into the inquiry, leaning closer to Stan to look at Y/N. What if there is something in her eye?

“I just can’t take them off of you.” Y/N finally says, looking at Stan. There’s a mischievous grin on her face as she does and she notices Stan blushing, although he might have wanted her not to see that. Bill and Eddie try to mask their laughter, but giggle like younger boys do. 

“Well…” Stan takes a big breath, not escaping the pressing urge to smile, “thanks.” He finally says, exhaling. Y/N smiles wider, and immediately turns around to get her backpack, for her swimsuit’s in there and she wants to change in the woods, not choosing the simple option to undress and swim in her underwear. 

She leaves the boys to themselves, having grown quite shy. After some more laughing and teasing in-between, the boys undress, as well. Y/N can’t stop thinking about the way Stan reacted to her comment and his little smile, and she tries to get him out of her mind by shaking her head, but that doesn’t work. Only makes her head spin a little.

Once she’s done changing into her swimsuit–a pink one-piece that looks more like a short dress than a swimsuit–she rejoins the guys. They’ve all got their tidy-whities, which makes them look very cute, in her mind and in their mothers’ minds, and she smiles, squinting at the sun. She doesn’t need sunglasses for jumping into water. 

Stanley can’t help but blush once he sees the girl. It’s easily-explainable teenage hormones that have got his cheeks turning crimson, he thinks. Bill’s heart is set on one girl and one girl only. So he and Eddie both don’t really see her attractive in that way. Well, firstly, she’s a relative and there’s someone else Eddie’s realised that he likes. 

Y/N looks at Stanley for a second before she looks at Eddie. 

“So, how do we jump? All together, one by one, in pairs?” He asks, a bit scared, looking down at the green water. He still is that way with many jumps into the water already on his resumé.

“W-we can jump in puh-pairs.” Bill suggests and Y/N nods at him. 

“Let’s jump together, then.” She tells Eddie with a wicked grin and takes his hand, walking closer to the edge. 

“On three, please.” The boy says. Y/N laughs, and Stan can’t help the smile forming on his lips as he watches her do so. “Nice going with making Stan blush, by the way. He’s so easily embarrassed.” Eddie whispers to his new friend with a smile. She gives him the stern eye, but says nothing.

Her composure is so steady, so elegant for a young woman. Her swimsuit-dress plays a part in it, too. What with flares and even crochet details here and there. A trend Stan’s never seen before, actually.

Her skin, the parts that are visible, is quite tanned. She must live somewhere in the South. The pink tone of her swimsuit-dress perfectly contrasts with her golden-brown skin.

Y/N put her hair in a little bun while she was changing. It’s not quite perfectly done, but that’s how she likes it. At least she secured it tight, so no big strands should fall out and bother her vision or anything else. It’s a perfect mix between ginger and blonde hair. Almost like it’s a golden tone, but golden like a sunset. Or is it bronze… He can’t figure out.

“One…” Y/N starts counting, looking at Eddie with big and excited eyes, “two…” they take two more steps and are practically hanging on their heels on the cliff’s edge, “three!” The kids yell together and, holding hands, jump into the water. 

The water was cold at first. And Y/N and Eddie both screamed when they felt it against their skins, but those were happy screams. Well, for Y/N, at least, she’s not so sure about Eddie. The boy’s usually screaming in inconvenient and stressful situations. 

Stan and Bill joined them in the water not longer than a minute later, both screaming like little girls, but laughing, too. They decided to hold hands, too, just for the kicks, but let go of each other the second they reached the water.

Y/N showed the boys her swimming and water tricks - how she could swim in butterfly style, for example, which she was taught in swimming lessons in her school. She could also do flips underwater and hold her breath for a long time, which both surprised and scared the boys.

“That’s two minutes and half, Y/N, please get out so you don’t drown!” Eddie had begged, clearly seeing it for the first time and stressing about his new friend having having an… inconvience.

Y/N got out half a minute later, wanting to torture Eddie a bit. She emerged already laughing. “I can hold it much longer, Eddie. That won’t be my cause of death.” She shakes her head and slides all the hair in her face back. Her bun did fall apart, after all. 

“How did you learn that?” Stan asks. “That was three minutes.”

She grins and her eyes flicker wickedly, she looks at Stanley. He actually really wants an answer. “Looking at you, three minutes is the least time I could spend without breathing.” Y/N says. Stanley gets flustered again, looking away from her eyes. She grows a bit shy, too.

“Okay, you two, get a room.” Eddie says, but then leans closer to Y/N’s ear. “Where do you find such corny pick-up lines, though?” He asks her and laughs afterwards. Y/N splashes water on Eddie, which makes him splutter and swim further away from her. 

She notices Bill saying something to Stan, which makes both boys smile. Then Bill joins Eddie in slowly getting out of the water. Y/N averts her eyes from Stan, but then shyly looks at him through her eyelashes. Only because she felt him looking at her. 

“I actually wanna know. That was really impressive.” He tells her and dares to come a bit closer to the girl. She bites her lip, trying to form words in front of the most handsome person she’s ever seen in her life. It’s like her brain took a spontanious vacation and trusted all tasks to herself.

“It wasn’t anything pleasant.” She admits. “I was held underwater for a very long time by a girl who, I guess, really didn’t like me. I think she was jealous. And I just somehow got through it without fainting, tried to survive.”

“That’s horrible.” Stan says, touched by her story. Who could ever be mean to a wonderful, but shit-flirter person like her? “How long was it? Did someone save you?”

“The teacher did. I don’t care about the incident anymore. But it’s given me a great skill.” She says, a nervous smile on her lips. She feels like Stan is longing after the answer to his question. “It was fifteen minutes.” 

“You could’ve died.” He says, eyes laced with worry and confusion. 

“I’m alright, Stanley.” Y/N tries to convince him. She really is fine. “Show me something you can do! There must be a party trick you have.”

Stanley smiles for a second, but then frowns as he tries to think of what he can do in water that’d seem cool or out-of-the-ordinary. He can do the basic swimming styles, he can… Stanley looks over at Bill and Eddie, who are already starting to climb the cliff. They could tell him what he can do. Right!

“Oh!” He cheers, recalling his water skill. “I can stand on my hands underwater.” He says, a proud smile shining Y/N’s direction.

“That’s so cool!” She claps her hands. “Show me, show me!” Stanley nods and rubs his hands over his face, then stretching a little. Y/N takes a step so that he’d have more space if he’d need it. 

Stan takes a deep breath and goes underwater. Y/N waits for a bit, and it takes him at least ten seconds to stand fully on his hands. His feet come out above the water, making Y/N giggle. She takes a deep breath, too, and goes underwater to see him standing on his hands.

The water bites her eyes a little, but she holds them open and they widen when she sees that Stanley has kept his word true. His hands are digging into the sand below and he’s standing with a straight back, on his hands. She reaches out her hand to touch his arm, signalling that she’s seen it and that he can stand normally if he wishes. 

Stanley changes into a squatting position under the water, as slow as the water lets him, and looks at Y/N with a big smile. She gives him a thumbs-up with both hands, a big smile on her face, too. Stanley’s smile fades a little, but he’s not sad. He’s just looking at this very pretty girl. 

He hesitantly extends his hands towards her, his fingers stretched out a little. In the sort of motion he’d do if he was putting them against a glass. Y/N glances between him and his hands and then does the same. Their hands slowly inch closer together until his fingers feel her little ones against them. 

Y/N compares Stanley’s finger length to her own, deciding that they’re a centimeter longer than hers. But Stanley’s only looking at her. He’d like to spend the whole day doing it, but he is running short on air. And the air in his lungs ends. His eyes widen and he clashes through the water’s surface like a torpedo. Y/N joins him soon after.

“You okay?” She asks. She lingers on the moment they were having under the water, she would have wanted it to last longer. But the boy couldn’t breathe. Stanley takes a few deep breaths and coughs. His hair is messed up because of his burst out of the water and he tries to put it into order.

“I’m fine. Ran out of air.” Stanley responds quite shortly. He’s thinking of their short moment, too. “Maybe you could teach me how to hold my breath underwater. Longer than I can.” So we could stretch the moment we had next time.

“Sure! It’ll take time, though, so don’t hope it’ll happen all at once.” She reminds him and Stanley nods. 

“Wanna head up, maybe?” He asks her and now she nods. Stan has grown a bit cold and longs for his towel on the cliff. Y/N doesn’t know it, but her lips have started to turn a bit blue. They’ve been in the water for a long time. 

The two get out of the water and instantly shudder. The air is still hot, but they’re not that used to it anymore. While they make their way up the cliff side, Stanley looks at her. She’s holding her arms by her sides and he wishes he could give her something to warm up with. 

“H-how long are you staying here?” Stan questions, his own shuddering making him stutter. 

“This is the first week out of three.” She tells him. “We can use that time for the underwater breathing ‘lessons’.” She points out and Stanley nods, although very shyly. “I would maybe like to stay longer, but mom’s the one who decides that. She doesn’t fancy staying here or spending time with Eddie’s mom.”

“Hardly anyone does.” Stanley states. 

“That woman’s a nightmare. And I’m not trying to be rude.” Y/N says, eyes wide and shaking her head. Stan laughs. She looks at his gorgeous smile and smiles herself. How can someone be so pretty?

Her daydreams slow her down a little, Stan walking in front of her now, in a quicker pace.

“Hey,” she calls out softly. Stanley looks at her over his shoulder and sees Y/N has stopped walking. He stops, too, and turns around to face at her.

“What?” He asks. 

“Cupid called.” Y/N says, squinting at both Stanley and the sun (though they’re the same thing in her eyes), since it’s right behind him. “He says to tell you to give my heart back.” She finishes. Her confidence in her horrible flirting remains strong as she looks at Stanley, waiting for his response. He’s only blushing.

“I have no idea how to respond to that.” Stanley admits, laughing and shaking his head. Y/N blushes and looks down at her feet. On one hand, she loves that she makes him blush and feel a bit flustered. He looks cute. “But maybe I’ll give it back one day.” Stan then says, which makes Y/N look at him with eyes full of hope and also embarrassment. Stanley laughs and turns back around. “Come on, let’s go.” He ushers and resumes walking towards where Bill and Eddie are. Y/N shakes her head, completely head over heels for the boy, and jogs after him.


	16. Underwater (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader and Stanley's underwater activities become regular, and that helps their feelings progress.

Stan was and always had been a very patient and down-to-earth person. He doesn’t know who he got it from since his father was a very impatient man, also a man who was never pleased with anything people gave him. His mother… Well, Stanley doesn’t see his mother often, so he doesn’t know whether it’s her who’s also patient like him.

His patience has many perks. He can use it now when he’s learning how to hold his breath underwater for a long time. He was getting very good at it after only three days, and Y/N was very proud.

They had met up for the past week without Eddie or Bill or Stan’s other friends or Y/N’s family really noticing. It’s not like it was a big secret, but Stanley wasn’t a fan of someone picking on him because the people he hangs out with or because of what he likes and enjoys doing. He doesn’t want his friends to make a fuss about him spending time with Y/N. Stan knows Richie would, so he doesn’t say anything.

Y/N’s family would have a lot of questions if they knew that she was spending time with a local boy. What’s his name? What jobs do his parents have? How do you know him? Do you like him? Does he like you? Does he have a brother or sister? Are you thinking of bringing him over? Is he a good person?

It would ruin her nerves to answer all the questions. And not just answer them, but answer them the way her family would like her to. Yes, she does like him. His name is Stan. She doesn’t know if he likes her, but she’s pretty sure. He is a good person. All the other questions she’s not ever thinking of answering or doesn’t know answers to them.

So they told nobody what they’re really doing when they head out of their houses in the middle of a hot day with a backpack and Stan with his bike. He offered to take her to the Quarry on his bike since hers is at her real home, and she agreed after a while of figuring out how they could do it without anyone seeing. So Stan waited for her on the far corner of the street of Eddie’s house each day they met.

She held onto his torso while they rode through the streets and the forest, savouring the time of the ride. Burning it into her memory so she would never forget these weeks of the summer. She has a week and a half left to spend here, in Derry. And she’ll try to make the most of it.

It is their sixth day of “underwater-breathing-lessons” and Stan is basically a professional at it. No sudden bursts of anxiety that he’ll drown or suffocate, no jumping out of the water because of breath shortage. She observed how patient and calm he is. She also saw his determination, mostly in his eyes (and the way they were shut), to stretch his time without breathing underwater longer each time.

She admires his determination. It was something she had, but in another way. She was determined to survive when she was “taught” to hold her breath for a long time. He’s, on the other hand, determined to be perfect in her eyes, determined to inhabit this useful skill she has. 

Y/N taps on his shoulder to let him know he’s reached ten minutes already and they both emerge above the pond’s surface. They both take a deep breath once out of the water and then laugh.

“You’re so good at it!” Y/N cheers and claps her hands. Water droplets still bother her eyes, and she sees Stan through them a bit warped, blurred. She rubs them out, or tries to, and sees Stan holding a proud smile on his face. “Ten minutes, mister.” She adds.

Stan nods. “Thank you, thank you.” He says and makes a bowing gesture to her. She laughs. Y/N has noticably gotten rid of her flirtation phrases. She thought they worked like a charm, but Stan was begging her to stop for he felt so flustered and embarrassed when she used them. So she stopped, wanting to do only good. Sometimes they’d almost slip out, but she would stop herself from speaking at the last moment. One is trying to get out at this very moment. 

But this moment is so precious. They’ve locked eyes and they share a look full of wonder and, thankfully, mutual, sympathies. They already sort of spoke them out loud on their first day meeting each other. But both of them are still unsure of the mutual feelings. How silly, right?

An idea pops up in Stan’s mind. A mischievous and daring one, a brave idea. He’s not sure it’ll work or if he should even try. He must try! It’ll be better than never acting on it.

“Can I go again? I wanna try eleven now.” He requests. Y/N nods. They’ve been going half minute by half minute till now, and she supports him taking bigger steps, but she’s also a bit concerned whether he’ll make it or not.

“They’re your lungs, dear.” She responds, laughing. When he’s taken big enough breaths and she’s checked her watch, they dive under again. Y/N puts up three fingers, then two, as if counting, and then one, and then zero. She decided he’d start his eleven minutes at twenty-two minutes past four. 

Stanley spends the first three minutes underwater gaining courage and enough guts to do what his idea is encouraging him to. How should he do it? Christ, he’s so nervous. If he wasn’t training to breathe underwater, he’d be panting right now out of stress. 

What if she responds the wrong way? No, I’m pretty sure she won’t. But what if she does? What if being flirty is just in her nature? Christ sakes, Stanley, get yourself together and start doing something!

Stanley opens his eyes and steps closer to Y/N, as quick as the water lets him, and is very careful not to release a breath. God, this won’t be easy. But you can do it! You’re Stan the Man!

He holds his hands up, like the first time they were underwater alone, his palms flat out. Y/N is a bit confused, but does the same thing. Slowly, they bring their hands together and link their fingers together. She once again notices how his fingers are much longer than her own and it makes her smile.

Stanley watches her carefully, studying her facial features. They’re a bit changed by the water and how everything looks when you’re under, but she’s still as beautiful and breathtaking as she is above water. The liquid doesn’t change her beauty and he’s sure nothing ever could.

This is the moment. Go on, do it! 

Stanley steps even closer to her, getting really close. And it’s slow, everything’s so slow. Not just because of the water. 

Y/N must admit she’s not really sure of what’s going on, but she lets it happen. She has a pretty solid idea of what he is doing, so she lets it happen. 

Stanley’s the closest to her as he’s ever been, he thinks. He’s mere inches from her lips and he can’t wait a second more not knowing what it’s like. So he finally kisses her.

Her eyes widen in surprise and joy, almost taking a breath out of pure positive shock. She’s careful not to. God, this is an amazing feeling. Her first kiss. His first kiss. Shared together. At this moment, she’s so glad that it’s no one else who kissed her first.

Stanley’s senses all highten upon kissing her. It’s such a wonderful feeling. He thinks he doesn’t want to feel anything else for the rest of his life. His hands slowly break out of the lock and cup her cheeks softly. He retracts only to kiss her again.

When she’s regained control of her hands and the entirity of her body, she holds the wrists that are holding her face. She almost sighs against Stanley. It’d have almost lethal consequences. 

They’re kissing underwater. Her fourteen-year-old mind marks this down as the most romantic thing she’s ever had and will have. She wants this to last forever. Her first kiss has already passed, but it was the best thing in her whole life. 

As much as she loves this, she figures it’ll be much easier to continue above water. So she grips Stanley’s hands as tight she can and pulls them both above the surface. 

The teens look at each other and want to say something, but also don’t want to waste another moment not kissing the other. So they reconnect and kiss with such passion Y/N thinks she’ll pass out. Well, they don’t know it’s passion, they’re quite young and don’t realise what they’re feeling for each other to the fullest.

But they know that they’re each other’s first real crush and that the kissing feels so great! They could hardly express it in words if they tried. 

Stanley doesn’t want to pull away really, but he does and they finally lock eyes surely. He’s still holding her cheeks and her hands have almost got to his hair. They’re panting and, after a while of recovering, they laugh. But it’s quiet laughter, as if they’re laughing at a place and situation they shouldn’t be. Almost an embarrassed, quiet fit of laughter.

“That felt really good.” Y/N admits to Stanley, looking up into his eyes. He blushes, not knowing whether to thank her or compliment her back. Maybe he should try and say it in one sentence.

“I really like you.” He says, and it takes him a while, his words slow and he takes a pause before each one. Y/N is so happy to hear those words she almost sheds tears. He wouldn’t see them, anyway, cause both their faces are covered in water droplets. 

“I really like you, too.” She tells him back. Neither of them are a hundred percent sure how to do this whole thing correctly. But there is no right or wrong here. Well, wrong—maybe, but right —no. You just have to speak what you feel and try not to think about doing it too much. 

“And I’m planning on never giving your heart back to you.” Stanley then says. Y/N gasps, but laughs once she realises he’s made a reference to their first interaction. “So Cupid can suck it.” He adds in a slightly deeper, theatricalised voice. 

Y/N laughs again, but dives in to kiss him. It’s the first time she does it, and the adrenaline rocks her whole body. They’re both smiling against each other’s lips, so joyful and content with what they have now. They grasp and kiss each other for the longest time, feeling like they can never get enough of the feeling they have now.

At some point they have to pull apart, though. And it’s not their proudest moment, to be truthful.

“I fucking knew it!” Comes the enthusiastic shout from Eddie Kaspbrak. He’s standing on the cliff with Richie, Bill and Mike around him, Stanley and Y/N see once they turn in that direction. “I knew it!” Eddie cheers again and laughs maliciously, proud of himself. 

“Oh, God, no!” Stanley exclaims, his face in his hands. Y/N is blushing a deep red, but she turns Stanley back to her and hugs him tight. “I didn’t want them to know! What we have—” 

“I know, Stan, I know.” She tells him. His friends are pointing at the pair, and Y/N only raises an eyebrow and a middle finger at the boys. She also sticks her tongue out at them in a mean way, somehow wanting them to get the hint that they should get lost.

After a while, they do and they’re left alone again. Y/N takes Stanley’s face between her hands and notices tears in his eyes.

“Oh, Stan, why are you crying?” She questions in a desperate voice. Stanley sniffs and then wipes his eyes clean. 

“I didn’t want them to know about us.” He answers. “They’re gonna tease me now. As if they already don’t.”

“Is it the boy with round glasses?” Y/N asks. 

Stanley nods. “Richie.” He says. “I know he’s joking, but I’m sick of his jokes and have been since, like, I was ten. He’s just so annoying.”

“He’s your best friend.” She states and Stanley looks at her, listening. “He’s happy for you, but he can’t say it in the right way. Seems like jokes are his way of talking in general.” Stanley shrugs, deciding she’s probably right. “Look, just… don’t let them get to you.” She advises with a kind smile.

Stanley gives her a smile in response. “I think… I think despite that they’ll pick on me, we’ll still have each other, right?” He asks, a look of uncertainity in his beautiful eyes. A sadness appears in Y/N’s eyes, a sadness caused by a single realisation.

But she nods. “Yes, we will.” She assures him. “But um, but if, just in case, we will be apart, you’ll have this to remember me by.” She says and kisses him again. The young boy smiles and inwardly agrees with her. He will never forget this, he promises himself that.


	17. You Got Me Tripping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is a new friend of Beverly's, and Bev introduces her to her group of friends. Stanley, for example, falls for her in a heartbeat and his demeanor changes around her.

“Gosh, put that thing out!” Y/N squeals, waving her hands around in front of her face in complete disgust. Beverly only looks at her friend and doesn’t take her comment into account. Y/N is not fond of this kind of attitude, but since Beverly’s her only friend, she takes it lightly and slowly starts to get used to being surrounded by and smelling like cigarette smoke. “Aren’t we supposed to get going right about now?” 

Beverly shrugs. “Yeah, but I’m always late, anyway, so I’m sure they won’t mind.” She says and puffs out another cloud of smoke. Y/N stares off. On one hand, you really always have something to do when you’re a smoker. On the other, you have a very high chance of getting cancer, you stink, your teeth and skin turn yellow. That’s way too many cons for Y/N to even consider having such a bad habit as Beverly. “Alright, let’s go.” She pushes her smoked-out cigarette bum into the ground and stands up. 

Y/N rises, too, and on their bikes the girls get. Beverly looks at Y/N with appreciative eyes while they ride both on each side of an empty street. Y/N’s the first ever girl who she can talk to, first girl in the school and her life who isn’t ever mean to her. A big difference from her six male friends that Y/N’s about to meet. Beverly smiles when Y/N catches her staring, their eyes meeting for a few seconds.

The bike tires snap wigs and dried-up leaves in their way through the forest, creating a cracking sound, which, to a child’s ear, sounds satisfying. Y/N fears that she may accidentally hop off her bike seat due to the horridly changing bumps and holes the forest ground provides. She grips the steering wheel tighter out of that fear.

The place where Beverly stops in the woods looks just like ther est of the forest, nothing extraordinary or added to the clearing. The only thing that does stand out is the group of six teenage boys standing in the middle of the clearing, surrounded by trees and bushes. 

Beverly gets off her bike, putting it to the ground without a care, and waves at the boys. Y/N puts her bike against a near-by tree, afraid of it getting any scratches or damaging if it’d be on the ground. She joins Beverly in walking in the boys’ direction.

“Hey, guys.” She says to them once the girls reach them. The boys respond to her with waves and “hi”s, too.

“Wh-who’s this?” A boy with reddish-brown hair asks, looking and gesturing towards Y/N.

“I was about to say,” Bev starts, “that this is Y/N. A new friend of mine.” She says. Y/N gives the group a wave. 

“I’m Mike.” First speaks a brown-skinned boy with a sweet smile.

“My name’s Eddie.” Says a boy who looks younger and smaller than the rest. 

“I’m Richie.” A boy with glasses, which he adjusts, greets her.

“I’m Ben.” Says a boy with softer facial features and a heart-warming smile.

“My-my name’s Stanley.” A boy with acorn curls, wide eyes and a fearful face introduces himself. So there’s two boys with a stutter? But Beverly only mentioned Bill.

But the poor Stanley Uris doesn’t have a stutter, oh no. He’s gotten himself embarrassed in front of this very pretty new girl. Her presence makes Stanley flustered. He’s never seen or met a girl so… He can’t place it. But she takes his breath away. And his ability to speak without stuttering, as he does normally.

His friend Bill even notices it, glancing quickly at his friend. “I’m B-B-Bill.” He says, offering a sort-of smile to the new girl. She takes each introduction with a nod, trying to remember all their names.

“Nice to meet you all.” Y/N says. 

“Say, Beverly, are you guys going to Salem for a witch thing? You finally found a friend.” The one with the glasses says, makes Eddie laugh and Beverly roll her eyes.

“What are we doing today?” She asks, more to Ben, Bill and Stanley. Y/N recognises that in her mind they’re the sane brains of the group. Mike instead takes her attention.

“Are you from around here?” He asks Y/N. She can’t really nod, she can’t really shake her head.

“It’s a bit complicated.” She says. “I was born here, but I lived with my dad in Augusta. Now I live here again with my mom.” She finishes. 

“So the roots are here.” Richie decides and Y/N looks at him, nodding. 

“How bad must your eyesight be? Your eyes look huge.” She points out. Eddie laughs, the rare occasion of Richie not knowing what to say has come. 

“It’s so bad his eye doctor said he’s almost allergic to sunlight, as well as any light.” Eddie points out.

“That’s because your mom doesn’t let me out of her room till we’re ten rounds in.” Richie practically spits at Eddie. The boy shows his friend a scowl and Richie sticks his tongue out. Y/N laughs and she looks at Mike for maybe some sort of explanation. He only shakes his head.

“They’re always like that.” He tells her. “So if you’re thinking of spending time with us this summer, you’re gonna have to deal with them.”

“They’re not so bad. Funny to look at, though.” She admits. 

God, her face looks so angelic in the only sunray that shines through the thick leaves of the forest trees. It touches her skin and lights in a soft glittery way. Almost like she’s the only thing they could ever shine on. Her smile is so enlightening, as if she brings more light with smiling than the sun.

Stanley decides to go to talk to her, leaving Bill, Beverly and Ben to their conversation, which is about their plan for today. Most of his brain suggests he shouldn’t, but his feet are already carrying him over to her. And—oh! He really shouldn’t have done it.

His usually steady feet have caught over something Stanley would regularly step over with no hiccups. And he’s falling straight onto Mike. He catches the boy, thankfully, and it erupts laughter from Y/N again and Mike, too. Stanley grows nervous, blushes a deep red and tries to stand on his feet, pushing Mike’s hands away from himself. He straightens his shorts and shirt, even putting some of his curls in place and adjusting his little wrist watch. 

“Stanley, right?” Y/N asks with the kindest, most beautiful smile anyone could assemble. Stanley nods, a hint of a smile teasing its way up his lips.

“You can, uh, you can call me S-Stan, if you want to.” He tells her. “They all do, anyways. I mean, it’s not like an obligation, you can call me whatever you wish, actually.” Or you can call me anytime, here’s my house number. Should’ve been smoother, Stanley. He shakes his head as he speaks and Y/N giggles to herself. She bites her lip, analysing the boy in front of her. He seems nervous, but polite. “Um, what—what do your friends call you?” Stanley asks then.

“I don’t really have any, Beverly’s my only one at the moment.” Y/N answers him and both boys in front of her nod. 

“We can be friends.” Stan suggests, raising his eyebrows and shrugging. Oh, wait. “I mean, all of us, who are here now—we can all be friends. Is what I meant…” He grows more quiet at the end of his words and he hears Y/N’s laughter again as his eyes meet the ground. 

“That would be cool, Stan the Man.” Y/N says, having already created a nickname for the curl-head. He looks at her and then at Mike. 

“That’s a great nickname for you!” Mike points out, patting Stanley’s shoulder. “Much better than the one Richie has given you.”

“Ooh, what’s the nickname?” It picks the girl’s interest, and she voices it. Stanley and Mike look at her, then back at each other. Seemingly having a conversation between them with only their eyes.

Mike’s are asking whether he should tell her, and Stanley’s are begging Mike not to say anything. This begging would soon turn out to be vocal, if Richie hadn’t been listening in on the conversation and hadn’t appeared at the exact moment on Mike’s left side.

“His nickname is Stan Urin.” The boy says.

“It’s because of his last name.” Eddie clarifies to Y/N. The boys all laugh, except Stanley, who blushes, but not in a cute way. He’s embarrassed and doesn’t like it, as well as he doesn’t like the horrible nickname.

“That’s a bit of a mean one.” Y/N admits. Stanley looks at her. He was clearly expecting her to laugh, too, but she didn’t.

“Oh, come on, it’s funny.” Richie whines and Y/N dares to shake her head. Richie’s big eyes widen even more. “How is it not funny?”

“I don’t know, I don’t find it that amusing.” She states and sighs. It’s no big deal to her, just how she feels about the nickname. Stanley wants to say thanks, but he doesn’t, only looking thankfully and longingly at Y/N. His facial expression has grown friendlier and warmer. She winks at him. Oh, God, she shouldn’t have done that. He can feel his heart melting and the remains of it sinking to his heels.

A good ten minutes later, when Ben and Bill have got today’s things-to-do clear, the group start walking through the woods, further into them. They’ve left Y/N’s and Beverly’s bikes behind, which worries Y/N quite deeply, not wanting it to get stolen or not being able to find it when they come back.

She walks behind the boys and Beverly, but she’s not the last. Stanley is awkwardly trailing behind her. He’s also using his opportunity to not walk alongside Eddie and Richie, who could annoy to him to death if they tried only a bit harder. Stanley hears the girl sigh, and he steps a bit closer to her.

“Is something wrong?” He asks her. She looks at him and kindly smiles. Stanley looks away, rather enjoying the view of his feet moving than to look at her. His cheeks are turning crimson, the intensity increasing with every second. 

“I’m just worried about losing my bike.” Y/N admits, and sighs quietly again. “Someone could steal it. I don’t know, I hope not.”

“Well, we know these woods quite well,” Stanley says, “I could—we could help you get back to it.” She looks at him. He once again changed the persons in his sentences. Something’s up… “Beverly knows these woods, too, so maybe you can ask her.”

“I’ll see.” Y/N states. “I don’t know yet. I just hope that by the time we come back, the bike is still there.” 

Stanley nods with a small smile that is too awkward to say it’s even a smile. More like an akward twitch in his features. 

“Did you come here by bikes, too?” She asks, turning her head to look at him. Stanley shakes his head.

“Not—not today.” He says. Oh, God, she must think he’s lame. She must love riding her bike and he didn’t go on his bike on this exact day. Why did they decide not to ride today? He could’ve shown her he loves to ride, too, and they’d have something to talk about.

“I’m really sorry, but I wanna ask you something.” Y/N says to him more quietly. Stanley looks at her, eyes full of anxiety. What could it be? Is something in his hair? There must be a fly or a leaf in his hair. Maybe he hasn’t buttoned his shirt all the way up. Wait. There is definitely something on his face. Stanley’s silence gives Y/N the sign that she should continue. “Do you and Bill both have a stutter?” She asks, very afraid she might hurt his feelings or something. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked… That is so not polite, Y/N!

“Uh—no, no, I don't—I don’t have a stutter,” Stanley shakes his head, “not usually.” He adds then, a bit quieter. Y/N nods, understanding. She’s probably making him this way. He gets awkward around people. Or is it only today, only while she’s around? Well, she doesn’t know what she hopes for. But his stuttering and the occasional tripping over a branch or a leaf stack looks cute to her. 

She smiles at him, and he can only try to return the favor. He’d love for them to be alone now, where Richie and Eddie can’t hear him and are not interested in ruining anything. Maybe on a bench in the park… Watching the birds. Eh, she probably doesn’t like birds. But maybe she does… Maybe she’s just like him.

“Hey, uh,” Stanley starts to say, interrupting the silence that had befallen them, and Y/N turns her head to him again, ready to hear his question or request, “do you like birds?”


	18. You Got Me Mumbling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School starts, and Stanley and Reader spend time together as a two.

September came to Derry with the same warm winds and sunrays that the month of June brought. And school had started in these same weather conditions, which made a lot of students want to skip school to be outside instead. Including the Losers.

Y/N was very excited to start school in this town, she’d never known the school culture here because when she lived in Derry previously, she wasn’t old enough to go to school. But her now close friends, The Losers Club, told her it was not some miracle school that came from Heaven. It was quite the opposite.

And she learned that when she saw how the girls behaved, how the sophomores and seniors treated the younger students, how the teachers talked to the pupils. It did shock Y/N, she was devastated to see the environment. And she grew to be a little scared. But, she had her friends.

None of them ever could gather the courage to stand up for themselves, but they weren’t alone, at least, they were a whole group. Now, a group of seven. Mike was home-schooled, Y/N learned, and she was even interested in that sort of learning. But she can’t leave her friends in that horrid place.

The summer they all spent together was magical for Y/N. They all were such interesting people. Each have their good and bad qualities and each have something even deeper and interesting than you see on the surface. That Y/N likes best. She feels as though they are their best qualities, the hidden and different ones. But Stanley’s good and bad and hidden qualities were her favorite. She hasn’t told anyone, though.

He’s a quiet boy, the most secretive, she thinks, of all. And he’s polite and very careful and he likes to watch from the side anything that happens, not be in the middle of it. Stanley hates conflicts and chaos, he likes peacefulness, quiet, he likes the nature. And he’s very fond of watching and researching birds. She told him she’s sure that he’ll be an ornithologist one day.

She went with him sometimes, on these bird-watching Sundays or Saturdays. Stanley usually went to a quiet and deserted part of town, near the forest that leads out of Derry. He’d tell her all about every bird they could spot in the trees and forest clearings or flying over the forest. And she had good memory, and she really liked listening to Stanley.

It’s not like he was giving her lectures, he was mostly silent and sometimes stumbled over the few words he said about a certain breed. But Y/N liked the silence, too, and she liked to just sit on the grass next to a stool Stanley was sitting on.

That’s exactly why the two of them always sit at the other end of the Losers Club lunch table. Well, yes, the table doesn’t belong to them, but it’s one where the group always sit. A table with enough seats for seven stands in the far corner of the horribly loud cafeteria of Derry High, a table the Losers chose to sit at a long time ago.

Stanley likes sitting with his friends and next to them, but the closer he sits to them, the closer he is to the racket of other high school pupils. The farther he’s from there, the better. And the closer to Y/N, who has the same dislike.

Their age being the same is another thing they have in common. Y/N and Stanley have the same classes, though Stanley has a bit more Maths in his timetable due to his wondrous abilities with number. Y/N’s a bit jealous.

Sometimes they talk during lunch, on the times Stanley puckered up the courage. Mostly it is Y/N who initiates the convos. She knows Stanley’s too shy to actually say what he wants to, so she tries to help him? She hopes it actually helps either of them. Most times, they play crossword puzzles they find in their parents’ newspapers.

“No, no, it can’t be liberty. Liberty’s number six.” Says Y/N. She leans closer to Stanley and points her finger to the word in question.

“But what’s number nine, then? A world famous statue. Statue of…” He reads the question out loud to Y/N. “And the first letter is definitely L.”

“Seven letters…” Y/N trails off and starts to guess the options in her head, looking off. Stanley glances at her and tries to be the first who guesses it right, tinkering.

“Lincoln!” Stanley exclaims then and gets to writing the correct answer down. Y/N smiles.

“Amazing.” She cheers him on. “Do you know an endangered species that live in Australia?” She asks, busy with her own crossword puzzle.

Stanley doesn’t miss a beat. “You’re one of a kind, so I’d put you in the list for endangered species.” He says. But she’s not from Australia… Well, shit.

Y/N’s first reaction is wide eyes and a hot blush that creeps not only over her cheeks, but her whole face. She looks away, embarrassed by the look of her tomato-red face. You have to say something back. For God’s sake!

“I'm—I'm—I’m not from Australia.” She finally gets out. She’s turned back to face Stanley, but their eyes don’t meet. “Not, um, not that I know of, actually.”

So suddenly, Stanley sees, her confident and always-has-something-to-say stance is gone. She’s stuttering, she’s blushing, she’s at a loss of words… Now they’re even more alike than before. Stanley feels a bit proud that she feels the same as he does every time she’s around.

He’s actually done it. Stanley Uris flirted with her. He’s finally done it. God, she’s happy for him. But she doesn’t know what to say back to that. She had a few of her own flirting lines saved, but they’re gone now. Her mind is a completely blank page.

Y/N trails her fingers over the table to where Stanley’s hand lays. He drops the pen when her hand touches his, and she uses that as her chance to hold his hand. They both freeze up and blush when it happens, their hands sweating, but they don’t pull away. Their hands stay that way.

“Well, I'd—I’d put you on the world’s list of… endangered… species.” Stanley says, taking long pauses between his words, afraid that maybe they’re not that necessary. Y/N finally looks at him. Her eyes seem to say “thank you”. But for what? Finally making a move? Something like that. She gives Stanley a smile and grips his fingers tighter between her own.

It’s when his words really click in her head. They might just be a pick-up line he read in a teen magazine, but she heard and saw that he meant them. Since the day he met her, he’s been nervous around her and it isn’t just because. She’s someone he found different from everyone in many ways, and now he’s said it.

Stanley has made her feel special. She hasn’t heard words like that from someone. She smiles wider.

“Thanks, Stanley.” Y/N tells him. “You’re quite the odd duck yourself.” She nods at him, and thank God she didn’t stutter.

And Stanley giggles. He actually does, and it turns the heads of his friends. This velvety sound which doesn’t grace their ears that often surprises them and they look at him and Y/N. A question about how the little thing happened in a facial expression form appears on all their faces, they blink their eyes, waiting for something, at least.

But nor Stanley, nor Y/N give them anything and carry on tinkering on their crossword puzzle questions. They duck their heads down and move their intertwined hands below the table, laying in Stanley’s lap now. Only then do their friends notice that link between them and gasp quietly between themselves. But the puzzle solvers pay their reaction no mind. They’re too embarrassed to hear anything besides the ringing in their ears.


	19. Pretty (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is the older sister of Bill Denbrough. She forgets her towel in the washing room when she's gone in the shower on the night her brother has his three friends over. When she calls for Bill, Stanley is the one who comes to the rescue.

Coca Cola cans, chip packets, crackers, water, jelly beans and bears, sour candy, slices of watermelon. Video games, cartoon series, board games, card games, television programs and films. Pyramids of cups, smelly socks, hats, pillows and plates. The perfect combo of a teenage boys’ slumber party. 

A perfect weekend for the boys. The Denbrough kids’ mother decided to let their kids have fun alone, do whatever they want, for a weekend. She and her husband drove up state to visit her parents. They warned the kids not to burn the house down, and, boy, did Bill’s friends try.

Y/N was already used to Bill’s friends causing chaos everywhere they went, always being loud and quite annoying, she must admit. Especially trash-mouth Richie. She couldn’t stand him. But, like said, she had gotten used to them and their loudness. At least there were only four of them, and they were younger.

“Don’t tell me Brooke Shields is home, too.” Richie begs his friend. They’ve been playing board games for hours, the MTV channel serving as background noise and when they switched channels, they heard music coming from upstairs. The Losers Club immediately looked at Bill.

“Sh-sh-she doesn’t mind us being here.” Bill says, innocently.

“But it’s weird. She hears everything.” Eddie states. Stanley sighs.

“She has music on, dumbass.” He tells his friend, eyes narrowed.

“Or rather, we can hear everything.” Richie says with a thick essence of mischief in his voice.

“Beep-beep, Rich.” Stan says, sighing along with the other two. 

“Say, Bill, does she have a boyfriend? Maybe he’s coming over tonight?” Richie keeps pestering his best friend.

“Shut up, R-R-Richie.” Bill responds, careless to go any further with this stupid conversation. Richie snickers and looks at Eddie, waiting for him to join in laughing, but he doesn’t.

“Bill, do you have Monopoly?” Stanley asks and Bill nods.

“In m-my room, up-upstairs.” He tells Stan.

“I’ll get it, then.” The boy decides and walks to the living room’s door to get to the stairs. 

“We all know what he’s gonna do up there. And it ain’t gonna be Monopoly.” Richie comments, which earns him a nasty glare from Stanley and a punch to his side from Bill himself. 

“Th-that’s my-my sister you’re talk-talking about.” Stanley hears Bill say to Richie.

Y/N decided to hop into a shower before she settles for watching a movie in her parents room and then going to bed. It is ten pm on a Friday night already, and she’s got her friends coming over tomorrow, so she needs to have a good night’s sleep. Even with her brother’s never resting friends in the house.

She left the music in her room on while showering, but she also left her clean towel in the downstairs washing room. She realised it only when she was done showering - that there were no towels in her bathroom. Shit. She hopes Bill can hear her, she did hear him coming up the stairs.

“Billy!” She yells as loud as she can. 

Stan almost falls off the stool he uses to get to the top shelf from hearing Bill’s sister yelling. Bill has a bad habit of putting board games on the highest shelf in his room. And she definitely has a loud voice. 

“Bill!” She yells again when there’s no response. Not more than half a minute later there’s a knock on her door. 

“It’s Stan, not Bill.” The boy says through the door. “Do you need some help?”

“Oh, hi, Stan. Come in, the door is open and I’m in the shower.” She simply says. Stanley hesitates, but creaks open the door. “I’m in quite a crisis. My towel is in the downstairs bathroom, the blue one in a red basket.”

“Need me to bring it?” He concludes.

“If you’d be so kind.” She says shyly. 

“Right. I’ll be right back.” Stan tells her and, after slowly and carefully closing the bathroom door behind him, rushes downstairs for the towel she asked for. She would be freezing soon. 

“What’s the matter, Stanley? Saw something you shouldn’t have?” Richie teases and Stan only groans, rolling his eyes at Richie. He makes for the bathroom of the first floor, which is right through the kitchen in the Denbrough’s house.

Although Bill ignores Richie’s snide question, he is curious why Stan jogged down the stairs without the Monopoly and went into the kitchen. It is his sister, after all. But he also knows Stan. Stan’s very polite and reserved.

Stan fetches the towel from the red basket and holds it close to him, folding it over his arm. He goes back up the stairs in the same speed he came down them. He finds Y/N’s room and bathroom again and knocks on the door, to warn her it’s him.

“Please, open the door in as wide a slit as the towel is thick. Catch my drift?” Y/N’s voice comes from inside the room.

“Uh-huh.” Stan confirms. He creaks the door open and squeezes the towel through the slit, her hand taking it once it’s through. Stan shuts the door and sighs. He tried to keep his eyes semi-closed while giving her the towel, and it’s quite self-explanatory why he did.

He walks back to the door of her room, heading for Bill’s bedroom again. But Y/N stops him once again from getting to the Monopoly. “Thanks so much, Stanley.” Her sweet voice thanks him and he can tell that she’s come out of the bathroom. 

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” He responds with his back still to the bathroom door and her. 

She chuckles. “You can turn around, silly.” She encourages him. Stan gives her a chuckle of nervousness and hesitantly turns around to face her. He doesn’t like to admit it, but it’s some sort of new teenage experience. His cheeks blush immediately upon looking at her in only her towel and wet hair. “What’s wrong? Is something on me, my towel?” She fusses quietly.

“No, no, you’re very pretty.” He suddenly blurts out, without thinking. Once he realises what he’s said, he wants the ground to swallow him right up. Great going! Why did you have to say that from all things, Stanley? Why?!

Now Y/N blushes. And she smiles. She can tell he’s gone full panic mode - his eyes are wide and cheeks redder than before. “You’re pretty, too, Stan.” She says after all. 

The boy gets even more flustered. He doesn’t know what to say back. One thing only comes to mind. Come on, nothing can be worse than you already said. “Do you want to play Monopoly with us?” Stan asks and looks at her again, regaining his posture and the little amount of confidence he carries in himself.

“I’m not sure that your friends would like that.” Y/N admits. Stanley shakes his head. 

“Screw what they like or not. If you want to, come play with us.” He tells her and she chuckles. “If you don’t, that’s okay, have a good night—”

“No, no, I’ll play.” She convinces him otherwise. “Just let me change first.” Y/N states, smiling wide. 

“We’ll be—Well you know where we will be.” Stanley says and Y/N laughs. He even smiles at her, breaking out of his flustered state. He leaves her room and again walks into Bill’s bedroom to actually get the board game they so much want to play.


	20. Pretty Sad (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is leaving for college, Stanley is still in high school. On her last day in Derry feelings are confessed between her and Stanley.

Boxes upon boxes upon boxes upon… An empty room now. Looking in it, the sight is one out of a movie. A sad, but hopeful one. This is the end of one chapter and a start of a new one. Y/N sighs, her head falling against the doorframe. She’s drained emotionally and physically already, and there’s much more packing and loading boxes to do.

The Denbroughs’ house is alive today. Yelling and laughing young adults, fussing parents, music playing, tea kettle boiling now and then… It makes her stress only rise and the tears harder to keep in. God, her last day home before she leaves for college. She never would have thought it would be as emotional as it is in actuality. 

She hears yelling from the driveway and groans, her head falling in her hands. Y/N’s currently going through her bathroom, revisioning it and putting the useful things in a box. She needs peace and quiet, but her brother’s friends, who have come over to help, are making a mess all the time what with wanting to annoy each other to the death.

Y/N stands up, puts the box down, turns off the light in her bathroom and walks out of it, in a hurry to shush up the boys and find out what’s happened. She would have thought that once the boys have turned eighteen years old and supposedly become men, they would stop being so annoying. But it must be something with younger boys that make them annoying no matter what age. Well, maybe except one. Or a few.

She runs down the stairs of their house and notices Stanley Uris sitting in the living room, packing up her books from the family library, all alone. She gives it a second, but decides she’ll investigate that later. Y/N jogs out to the porch and down the front stairs. 

“What’s going on? Why are you yelling so much?” Y/N asks once she reaches Richie, Bill, Eddie and Ben. 

“Richie’s just being his usual self.” Ben says while putting a box in the trunk of the Denbrough’s car. Y/N looks at Richie, whom Eddie is next to and sees a box has been emptied. 

“What happened?” She asks. Both boys are in a state of embarrassment and slight intimidation. She’s very emotional today, said her mom, so you boys better not make her more anxious. 

“Richie dropped the box.” Eddie quickly says. 

“So-sorry, Y/N, I’ll put—I’ll put everything back.” Bill says immediately, but once Y/N furrows her eyebrows when she sees what is spilled, she shakes her head. 

“I’ll do it.” She says and crouches down to the ground to get her notebooks and books together. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Eddie tripped me.” Richie says. Y/N sighs. The boys slowly help her put the things back in the box, feeling guilty about the whole ordeal. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Y/N tells the boy in a soft tone, meaning her words. She’s got enough to worry about, a guilty boy’s conscience is not another thing she needs. “I needed to go through them, anyway.” All the things are back in the box and she picks it up, grunting softly at the weight.

“We're—We’re really s-sorry, Y/N.” Bill apologises in his friend’s place again, but Y/N doesn’t pay any of them mind. 

“It’s nothing.” She says. “Just stop yelling, for God’s sake.” She tells them all and walks back into the house. 

She sighs once she’s climbed up the stairs, still hearing the boys bickering over the spilling of books. She rolls her eyes. Y/N walks into the living room, having to go through it on her way up the stairs, and sees that Stanley is still sitting where he was. 

“Hey,” she calls out softly to the boy. He doesn’t respond right away, thinking she’s talking to someone else—her mom or dad, “Stanley.” She says then. She’s concerned about the sad expression on his face. Well, truthfully, he always looks sad, but today he looks even more sad. Or maybe it’s only how she sees it? She is in a weird place today.

Stanley looks up at her. “Hey.” He says and immediately goes back to look at the books. He checks the list given to him that contains all the books that she owns, and the list is quite long. 

“What’s wrong?” She asks him, walking closer to him. He’s sitting on the sofa, surrounded by a lot of books. He looks at her, a guilty look on his face. She’s uncovered something, something is indeed wrong. “Wanna maybe go up to my room to talk about it? If, I suppose, you don’t want your friends to hear…” Y/N suggests, shrugging and biting the inside of her lip. 

“I’ve still got your books to sort…” He points out, but she shakes her head. 

“You can do that after. Or we can do it together.” She tells him. “Come on. Everyone thinks I wanna be alone today, anyway, so no one will bother us.” She states and tilts her head as an indicating gesture in her room’s direction. Stanley nods and stands up.

Since Stanley has grown and aged bit by bit, he’s also gotten taller than he was at age thirteen, for example. He’s not the tallest in their friend group, Bill and Richie really are the tallest ones, outing Stanley and the others. Stanley and Y/N are now actually in the same height. And if you, a by-stander, would look at them side by side, you’d think they were the same age and everything.

Y/N puts the box down on her bed, the only space in her room that is completely free of any boxes or bags. She takes a seat on the bed next to the box afterwards, sighing and running her hands over her face. Stanley closes the door of her room and sits down next to her.

“So, has something happened?” She asks Stanley with her cheek resting on her hand, her elbows on her knees. Stanley looks at her. He’s sitting the way he always does - knees together, hands on them, his back straight and head raised, looking straight ahead of him. 

“I really don’t want you to leave.” He says quietly, as if still afraid of someone else hearing him. Being in her room actually brings back the memory of him helping her with the towel situation and exchanging compliments. She looked and felt so happy then. She’s still the same, but she’s sad, too, and tired and a bit more grown up. 

“Why not?” She whispers back carefully, although she can guess the answer. It’s the unspoken thing between them. 

“Because… Because I want you to be here.” He admits. “I don’t want you to be miles away. But it wouldn’t change anything…” Stanley shakes his head, immediately feeling stupid that he said something at all. Y/N wants to ask him ‘what wouldn’t it change?’, but he answers that in the following seconds. “You’d still be older, you’d still be Bill’s sister and you’d still be in college, and I’d still be in high school.” He says. His voice is quiet, but audibly full of emotion. 

Y/N freezes in her spot. She’s actually not the only one who’s having a hard time today. 

“Stanley…” she whispers. It’s so quiet he can barely hear her, but he does. Now he’s saddened her even more. He shouldn’t have said anything at all! She actually doesn’t know what to say at all. “There’s still a few hours.” She whispers then, and moves closer to Stanley. 

What she’s about to do is probably very wrong. Or maybe not. She leans even closer to him and kisses his lips. She shuts her eyes, feeling such sadness, and suddenly she realises that tears are streaming down both their cheeks as she feels Stanley’s drops against her cheek. 

It makes her shed even more tears, and she sobs, pulling away. Right before Stanley catches her off-guard and kisses her back. He felt so pulled to do it, so many emotions running through his heart and taking control of his whole being. He wants this to last forever, he wants her to stay with him here forever. Well, maybe not stay in Derry, but maybe move to the some other town. But that’s just a dream.

But she can’t keep kissing him, she breaks down in tears, her face in her hands, almost falling into her lap. Stanley’s shedding tears, too, but silently, and instantly puts his arms around her. His tears wet her hair, making small pools in the chocolate brown locks all over. 

Stanley lets her cry, figuring that she’s crying about the whole day, the moving event and both their feelings and situation. It’s alright. It’s a big day. And not just for her.

He doesn’t know how he’ll feel and how he’ll be after she’s left Derry. She’s not just leaving her hometown, she’s leaving the whole state of Maine. Thank God she’s not leaving the country for Oxford or Cambridge, even though she’s smart enough to do that. Who knows long it’ll be before he sees her again… On Thanksgiving? Christmas? New Years?

“There’s still a few hours l-left.” Y/N says. She’s wiping her face clean, but her spoken words just trigger more tears to drop from her eyes. “Oh, Gee, I’m just like my brother now.” She says then with a small laugh. Stanley smiles, too, though he shuts his eyes and feels tears still streaming downwards. They pull apart reluctanctly, just like two magnets who fit together perfectly, and Y/N looks at Stanley. She frowns, seeing him shedding tears.

Her fingers work on getting off the already fallen tears, trying to dry his soft skin. She notices that he, surprisingly, doesn’t have any zits or pimples, like her brother and other boys and girls their age do. She smiles. Her hand tilts his chin up a little, making him look at her. But he’s shy, and he’s crying, and ashamed of it, so he doesn’t meet her eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” She questions, her voice soft and raspy, as if she’d just woken up. Stanley sighs.

“It’s not right. It wasn’t.” He answers. Y/N nods, agreeing that it wouldn’t have been right earlier, but not because she’s his friend’s brother. 

“You’re right.” She says sadly. He’s so wonderful. If only they were the same age… Things would be so different. They’d be going to college together, graduating together, spent all high school years as friends or more. 

“I would have told you like last year or month or something, but I just… I didn’t get around to do it, couldn’t find the guts to.” Stanley admits and sniffs, trying not to cry now anymore. He’s cried enough, his eyes hurt a little already. 

“I wish things would be different…” Y/N thinks out-loud.

“Me too.” Stanley says. 

“Before, um, before I go,” she starts to say, “I wanted you to know that you were always more than my brother’s friend. I’m not just saying that because of today, but because it’s the truth and it’s always been that way.” 

Stanley’s glossy, shiny eyes look in hers deeply. They seem to be asking “really?”, but he knows the answer. He can see in her eyes that it’s the truth and that she means the words from the bottom of her heart. He takes a deep, sharp breath, almost a gasp caused by her words. He feels like he’ll start crying again, but he bats his eyes and tries to breathe deep breaths so that he won’t. He’s sick of crying, he’s not embarrassed.

“You’re a wonderful person, Y/N. The most beautiful girl, too.” He tells her, trying to such a nice thing to her as she just told him, giving back the same, you could say. “I just wish you weren’t going away. I could… I could do so much more.” 

Y/N gives him a thankful and supporting smile, her hand gripping his between their sitting bodies. Their fingers lay interlocked on the soft blue sheets of her bed and they both look down on them.

“You write to me, then.” She tells him, looking up suddenly. “You write me whatever you want. I’ll read all of it.”

“Then you have to write, too.” Stanley replies, a sort-of stern tone to his voice. Y/N smiles wide.

“Deal.” She says. The fact that she’s smiling makes Stanley smile, too and suddenly the atmosphere isn’t so grim. It feels better to smile now, despite the circumstances. Y/N dares to kiss him again, when they’ve both calmed down. The kiss could start a storm, but it could also keep the peaceful tone of the moment going. It’s the latter, thankfully.

Stanley lets her, but pulls away after a short while, embracing her instead. He holds onto her tight, like this will be the last moment he has with her. Frankly, Stanley really can’t know if he will see her again. He doesn’t know that, and he can’t predict the future. Sadly or thankfully, that will be decided later.

“I’ll miss you, Stanley,” she says and it might seem absurd to you, what she says, but it’s true, as well, “I’ll miss you so much, you bright soul.” And Y/N doesn’t say those words with the smallest bit of sarcasm or irony, she says them truthfully. And they make Stanley smile.

“I’ll miss you, too.” He responds. “I hope college is fun.” He says and his face falls further into the crook between her neck and shoulder. 

“I’ll tell you all about it, you bet your fur.” Y/N says and they both chuckle. Y/N kisses his cheek and touches a single tear with her cherry soft lips. “Don’t cry, my love. You’ll have my letters.”


	21. Pretty Brave (3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader isn't having any of the abusive behavior Henry Bowers projects onto her brother and his friends. Her acts of bravery only make Stanley more convinced of his feelings for her.  
> Warnings: bullying, crying.

Miss Denbrough is worried about where her son is, and why he hasn’t come home yet. It is the last day of school, and he can have fun, but it’s already over three o'clock and school ended before noon. She talks to her husband, and they agree to send their daughter to find him. She rolls her eyes, very comfortable in their backyard, sunbathing, but she agrees. She loves her brother and she knows where he is. Bill’s with his friends, building their little water dam that his little brother always wanted to make.

She takes her bike from the garage and gets on her way to the Barrens. A sunny day allows her to wear only a dress and sneakers, a comfortable outfit. The streets she rides are swarmed by kids and teenagers who are heading either to the Arcade, to the public pool or the recently-opened amusement park. Y/N smiles at the sight. They’re all laughing and relieved that school is finally over, it’s the pure form of happiness.

The Barrens are located in the outskirts of Derry and there’s no one ever around there, only occasional couples or old people driving out of Derry for a holiday. Y/N’s sure that no one would get the idea to take her bike if she leaves it simply by the road without a lock on, since no one’s actually there to take it. Fetching her brother won’t take long. She puts it against the wooden bridge, and makes sure it won’t fall down suddenly.

Walking down into the forest, she notices her boys’ bicycles parked around a single tree. Only one of them is parched up, though, and she smiles when she realises who it belongs to. She keeps on walking.

The singing of birds and the sounds of trees brushing against each other are the only sounds she hears by now, yet she’s still scared to be alone in a not-so-crowded place in her town. She’s all alone until she finds her brother and his friends, and she hopes that moment comes soon. There are no bears or wolves in Derry, so she’s not afraid of that sort of attack. The people here are the real dangers, though she’s never been scared of people.

It’s the monsters created by movies and her own imagination that she’s scared of. Y/N looks over her shoulder once in a while, making sure no monster is following her. She’s shaking in slight panic. Her imagination is very wide and graphic, and she’s afraid to actually see the things her imagination provides as pure hallucinations. The pace of her feet picks up without her even noticing.

She reaches a clearing, and immediately hears the river gurgling over rocks a few feet ahead of her, and then sees it, as well. The water is sparkling in the sunlight. The sound of children’s voices reaches her ears, too, and she sighs, relieved. It’s her boys. Y/N hurries to get to them. She’s ready to get Bill and go back home, and be at the safest place on Earth. These few minutes in the woods have scared a little too much.

Her boys are dressed in all button-ups and regular-length shorts. They look so smart! Y/N bets their mothers dressed them like that. All three, except Stanley Uris, would rather wear denim or short-shorts and regular tees even on the last day of school.

“What’s your sister doing here?” First question comes from Richie, of course. They all turn to her splashing through the water, coming in their direction. Y/N feels her sneakers getting wet, and her socks, too. Stanley smiles. He’s glad to see her. He thought he’d have to wait longer into the summer to meet her again. Wait, what is she doing here, actually? He asks himself.

“Hey, boys.” Y/N greets the group with a wave and a bright smile.

Her boys greet her right back, Eddie and Richie both wave at her, and return to building their water dam. It’s starting to look good, Y/N thinks. Bill looks at her awaitingly, also confused as to why she’s here.

“Hello, Y/N.” Stanley greets her back, and they exchange little smiles.

“Sorry to ruin your fun, guys,” Y/N starts to say and she looks at her brother, “but mom said to bring you home.” Bill sighs at her announcement. Richie whines in annoyance, a reaction to Y/N’s words.

“Wh-why today?” He asks his sister, not pleased with this sudden announcement.

“I don’t know, Billy,” Y/N tells him and there’s regret in her face, “I’m sorry. Maybe if you come home for an hour, we can make a deal with her. Or something.” She suggests.

Bill nods. He goes to take his backpack from the grass it’s laying in, and Stanley turns to Y/N. He decides to make the most of the short time she’s here.

“How was your last day of school?” He asks. She smiles.

“Went by quickly.” She tells him. “How was yours?”

“Yeah, it was okay.” Stanley says. “It’s a shame Bill can’t stay.”

“I know. But maybe he’ll come back.” Y/N assures him.

“I don’t know, I don’t have that much time. I still have to read my Torah.” Stanley says, then, regretfully. Y/N smiles at him, and shrugs.

“That’s alright. You guys have the whole summer to hang out.” She tells him, and Stanley nods at the statement. “Hopefully you’ll finish the dam by then.” Y/N looks down at the mentioned dam Eddie and Richie are huddled around. Stanley chuckles.

“We hope so, too.” He says. “We’ve been building it since spring came around.” Bill comes up to Y/N and she looks at him.

“Ready to go?” She asks, and her brother nods sadly. She chuckles, patting his shoulder. “Don’t be so sad.” She tells him. “You’ll–”

Bill’s and Stanley’s eyes widen and they freeze while Y/N starts to talk again, and it takes her by surprise. Their eyes look past her, though. She grows silent, and hears splashes of water behind her, which would be the reason of her boys’ sudden wide eyes. There’s only one reason they’d react this way to splashes of water.

Y/N turns around to meet the pathetic, but fear-inducing faces of Henry Bowers, Victor Criss and Belch Huggins. They’re strutting towards Y/N and her boys with arrogant stances and evil grins on their faces. Stanley gulps, and so does Bill. She takes both their hands and stands in front of them. Richie and Eddie have risen to their feet, and their eyes are big as buttons, too. They don’t take one step more towards Bowers, Criss and Belch. They would never dare.

“The fuck you kids doin’ here?” Bowers growls his question. Then his eyes recognise Y/N, and her posture doesn’t waver as he scans her from head to toe. That disgusting grin on his face only grows wider. Y/N keeps her eyes fixed on him confidently, her head held high, shoulders broad.

None of the boys had answered his question until Bill stuttered up. Y/N really wishes he hadn’t. “N-Nothing.” Bill tells Bowers. He thought his answer would get Bowers and his friends to get lost, but he was wrong as the bully comes even closer.

“Nothin’, B-B-B-Billy?” Bowers mimicks Y/N’s little brother. It makes her stare on Bowers turn angrier. “You sure? It looks like you’re prostituting your big sister to your pathetic friends.” Bowers states and his friends snicker.

Y/N takes a deep breath to calm herself down, and suddenly feels Stanley’s fingers tightening around her own. She doesn’t dare to look at him, knowing Bowers would make something of it in his twisted mind that would haunt her and her boys for the rest of the day. But she appreciates the gesture, if it was meant as comforting to her.

The bully steps even closer to her, hoping to make a difference in how she stands and holds herself, hoping to scare her. But he doesn’t. Y/N still stands as brave and sure as she did before. Criss and Belch walk around the group in slow, menacing steps.

“I’m sure you’d like someone your own age more.” Bowers hisses to Y/N. There’s a lot of things she wants to say to Bowers, but she holds all the thoughts inside for now, and takes a few steps back from Bowers. Stanley and Bill are still holding her hands behind her back, and step back with her. Stanley’s eyebrows are furrowed at Bowers, hate and fear towards the bigger boy evident in the Stanley’s eyes.

“Look, Henry! A dam!” Belch shouts upon finding the baby dam in-progress. Bowers narrows his eyes at Y/N, but steps away and walks past Bill to see his friend’s found artifact.

“What a fuckin’ baby dam!” Bowers bellows, and laughs along with his friends. Y/N has turned around to see what the bullies are doing, and she urges Eddie and Richie to come closer to her. They start to, but Belch’s stiff arm grabs onto Eddie’s small one and petrifies him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Belch asks Eddie. Y/N can see the boy’s scared to his death. She lets go of Stanley’s and Bill’s hands and reaches Eddie in a few steps. Stanley panics. She could put herself in more danger than they already are. Belch looks at her when she takes his hand off Eddie, a questioning look in his eyes.

“Don’t touch him.” She tells Belch, not afraid to stand up in her boys’ defense. Eddie steps closer to her, his eyes still on scary Belch, and Y/N puts her arms around the little boy protectively. She’s not afraid of Belch or Criss, it’s Bowers she’s a little intimidated by. The other two are just victims petrified by Bower’s abilities and unpredictable behavior, just lambs.

“Let’s break it!” Criss proposes to Bowers, and that shifts the attention of Belch. He’s just as dumb as a lamp post, Y/N knows that, and his plain stupidity is one of the main reasons she’s not afraid of him.

“No! Don’t break it!” Richie exclaims, and the excited-to-break-the-dam Criss turns to him with an evil stare. He laughs loudly, and Bowers joins him.

“We’ve been working on it for so long.” Eddie whines, pleading, and Y/N feels that the boy’s frame starts to shake. He’s near crying, she assumes.

“Sure, break it.” Bowers approves and faces Y/N again. “I’ll have fun with the Losers here.” He states and Y/N’s face is twisted by a scowl. She gently pushes Eddie into Richie’s arms, and Stanley and Bill go over to their two friends, making a little protective huddle around the crying Eddie.

She stands firmly on her feet when Bowers approaches her. “You leave my boys alone.” Y/N tells him in the deepest and confident voice she can find. Bowers snickers.

“Your boys?” He repeats. Y/N can hear the sound of the baby dam breaking and Eddie crying. It angers her even more. “What if I don’t? What are you gonna do? You’re just a girl.” Bowers shrugs, and writes her down as an easy and vulnerable victim. “I can do anything to you that I want.”

Y/N can see the evil in his eyes, she can see the promise of doing evil things in these black, lifeless eyes. It crosses the last line there is for Bowers to cross. Her right knee rises, raising the hem of her dress along with it, and punches right between Bowers’ legs, straight into his crotch. She hates to have to touch him, but this boy has deserved this vile gesture from her. Henry’s eyes almost gauge out of his sockets, and Y/N hates seeing it, and she punches him square in the face. She hopes she doesn’t have to do anything else to make a point. As a girl, trying to make a point is already hard as it is.

Bowers hollers in pain and falls right into the river full of rocks. Henry’s knees are weak and have always been, so no wonder they bent at a hit into his crotch. His friends stop their assault on the Losers’ baby dam and look to their leader. Their eyes are wide, and they’re in shock when they see their mighty leader fallen down.

“That’s our girl, Y/N! In your face, Bowers!” Richie cheers without hesitation and claps. Bill, Eddie and Stanley all smile, despite still being scared. She’s stood up for them and for herself! She’s so brave. Stanley watches Y/N in complete awe, just mesmerized by her. She’s a hero.

Y/N leans down to Bowers, but not dangerously close. He could rise at any moment and be at his power again. But he’s still moaning and whining. He’s weak. “You won’t do anything to me or my friends.” She tells him quite calmly. Calmer than she thought she could. “Or I’ll tell your dad everything you’ve done to each student at our school.” She says and leans back up, taking a few steps back.

“You crazy bitch!” Belch yells and Y/N looks to him and Criss. She rolls her eyes at the statement, and then looks at her boys.

“Come on, let’s go.” She urges. Eddie and Richie nod while Stanley and Bill are already on their way past her and into the forest. Richie and Eddie get their backpacks from the tall grass. Y/N predicts that Belch and Criss could want to go after them, and to prove a part of her point, they already try reaching for little Eddie again.

So Y/N takes Eddie’s hand in her right hand and Richie’s hand in her left, and they start running towards the forest as a three. Belch and Criss shout after them, but, like the hypnotised lambs they are, they stay by their fallen, screeching leader.

Richie let go of Y/N’s hand, able to run faster than she and Eddie can together, and runs ahead of them. The main goal now is to reach their bikes and get the hell out of there, as fast as they possibly can. From what Y/N’s heard, Eddie has asthma and can’t participate in P.E. Whether it’s fact or not, she helps him run along the bumpy forest bed.

Stanley glances behind him once in a while to see if Y/N can keep up, taking that she runs with Eddie at her hand. And even while she runs, she’s a breathtaking sight. The sun kisses her skin in several places through the gaps of tree heads, her eyes are fixed on Eddie next to her to make sure he’s running okay, and her left hand holds her dress up so she wouldn’t trip over the long garment. She’s so beautiful in every way.

When the five kids are finally on their bikes, they ride as quick as they can. Eddie needed to stop after a minute to calm down his rapid breathing and use his inhaler. So the group made a little pit-stop in an empty playground to help Eddie and marvel about Y/N’s moment of courage. Maybe not just a moment…

“That was so cool, Y/N!” Richie tells her with a genuine smile and a cheerful voice while holding the back of a hiccuping Eddie. Y/N smiles at both boys, nodding. “Never know you had it in ya.”

Y/N chuckles. “D-Don’t underestimate my-my sister.” Bill says and points his finger in the air. The group laughs.

“I never did.” Stanley admits and Y/N looks to him when he says that. She’s pleasantly surprised and appreciates the thought. Y/N smiles as she pats Stanley’s shoulder, and he blushes a deep red. The boy blushes!

“Thanks, Stan.” Y/N tells him. 

“Seriously…” Eddie starts to say, “thanks a bunch, Y/N.” He tells her, and there’s a thankful little smile on his face. Y/N nods again.

“No bother.” She responds. “You guys are way too cool to be picked on by an actual loser like Bowers.” She tells them.

“May-maybe mom won’t mind thuh-them coming over.” Bill says to Y/N quietly while Eddie, Stanley and Richie make banter between themselves. Although Stanley can’t take his eyes off Y/N even while he talks to his friends.

Y/N tilts her head side to side and shrugs. “Yeah, I don’t think she would.” She tells her brother. “She really gave me no reason as to why I have to come get you.” Y/N states then. Bill sighs and his sister pulls him into a hug. “Are you alright?” She asks him, tightly holding him.

“I’m-I’m okay.” Bill says. “I really wuh-wanted to get the dam finished today.” He tells her then. Y/N nods.

“I know. For Georgie.” She states and Bill nods. “Don’t worry, you can make it during summer. That’s three whole months!” She pulls back from her brother and pats his back comfortingly. Bill nods again and looks at his friends again.

“Let’s-let’s go, guys.” He calls to them and starts walking over to his bicycle.

Stanley and Y/N are the last to get on their bikes, and they ride at the back of their group. Stanley still looks at her admiringly and almost drives into a few lamp posts from looking at her when he should be looking at the road instead. She’d yelled ‘Stanley, look out!’ and he’d dodged an unwanted incident.

Violence isn’t a thing either Y/N or Stanley like, it’s not right in their eyes. But the only thing Henry Bowers knows in his life is violence. That might be the only way to make him stop his violence on others, as much as Y/N hates to be the one that done it. Violence shouldn’t be a thing and she thinks she shouldn’t even have done it. But it was self-defense, he was coming onto her.

Henry Bowers has been a heathen in the lives of many kids in Derry, and Y/N’s the first one in history who’s actually stood up to him and done something back to the bully. She’s surely a hero to her brother’s friends and other kids.

Stanley has known for a while that he likes Y/N, but these acts of courage made him completely sure of one thing.

She’s the one. She’s the one and the only one for him in this wide world.


	22. Lady In Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teenage! Stanley Uris x Reader
> 
> Old A/N: This was not requested. My own original idea. I changed the Losers’ age and I changed the time of the Sewer fight (from Chapter One) for this. I want to write this and I will, even though I’m filled with rage and sadness. I think it’ll help me write.
> 
> A/N: Okay so idk what this really is… All I know is that it’s been sitting in my google docs since like november of last year? Perhaps even longer? And I’ve wanted to incorporate that idea into a Heaven prequel, but since I still haven’t really planned it out, I’m just gonna put this out here. Hope you like it! Happy quarantine reading!
> 
> Warnings: insomnia, mentions of nightmares, bruises, patches, nothing else really :)

Prom. 

A sigh of relief. It meant something was ending, and that it was ending well. Prom night is a night which you spend with a date and your friends. Put on a perfectly-planned outfit, have a hairdresser appointment, buy flowers, rent a car. Dance, get drunk, do some rebel stuff, and go to a hotel or go home. 

For Stanley, only a few things would be checked on that list. And he didn’t mind that they were less in count than for other students in his year. He promised himself a good night, a night of relief and being together with his friends, the few that are left, and just taking a breath for once.

The scars on the sides of his face had partly healed now, and the white patches on his cheeks served as decoration to how he looked tonight. His mom took care of buying a smart suit and dress shoes, and Stanley himself took care of not taking care of his hair. He let the curls be, let them fall where they felt like. 

The horrible day at the Sewers was one he knew he’d never forget. And it was fresh as ever, it happened only a few weeks ago. Two days and it’ll be a month anniversary. Nightmares haven’t left his side and mind since. Stanley’s been waking up in cold sweats, in tears, from dreams that seemed too realistic to be actual dreams. Or were they memories?

Mostly, he’d wake up alone. But when she started to notice he was coming to school pale and with bags under his eyes, she started coming over and spending the night. It meant sneaking through the window of her own room and then his bedroom window, because, despite the teens being eighteen and supposedly independent, neither of their moms would allow sleepovers on school nights. But Stanley couldn’t sleep or go back to sleep after waking up if he was alone. He mostly lay awake, eyes widened by his own terror, staring at the ceiling or at the wall across his bed. Too scared to move, because one or other of the horrific creatures might be in his room; too scared to check if that was true or false; too scared to let his eyes fall back shut and slip back to sleep; too scared to sleep again because of the nightmares or horrific memories he might relive in his sleep again.

But she made it better. She’d hold him, tell him stories, pet his hair, caress his face and, most important of all, lay with him. She had this effect on him that Stanley cherished most of all. He loved her before she started sleeping over, anyway, but with this she’d earned his utmost trust and respect and love. 

They’d been friends for a very long time. In time of teenage hormones waking up and arousing many feelings, she and Stanley felt romantic interest and love for each other. Neither of them made a big deal out of the matter, actually. The feelings were spoken out one day, a while before the day in the Sewers, and they kept on like they had been before. Friendly every day talk, smiles and gazes at one another in a confirmed and public tenderness that they weren’t afraid to show. 

But after the day in the Sewers… What was between them gained a much more bigger role of importance. They may have even bonded closer, and for life. The connection that’s always sizzling between them was fully electric now and there was no turning back. Not that they wanted to, their only wish would be that the bonding hadn’t have happened in such horrific, traumatic events.

Neither of them were rushing to do anything or be anything, or be an item together. It wasn’t what they were and what they wanted. They were still friends, still best friends, and they still had feelings for each other. Love to them was simple. Why make a big deal all of a sudden? Just because everything’s out there now, instead of only inside their hearts? They didn’t see a point in it.

It’s not like they were procrastinating being together or being hesitant to start dating. It’s just that they liked the comfortableness that being friends brings. They loved being best friends, and didn’t want that to be gone. Maybe not yet, maybe not ever. So they went at the same pace in everything, and became more comfortable and truthful to each other than before, if possible. They already knew each other like the back of their hands.

Stanley sighs again and subtly looks at the clock on the dance hall’s wall. She’s been late ten minutes. But he doesn’t worry. He’s just impatient. Or maybe he is worried. Worried that whatever they threw down that old well might have come back and took her. But he tries not to think about it. 

He wants to see her prom dress, he wants to tell her she looks beautiful like guys in movies do, he wants to ask her to dance and hold her. He wants to spend every second he can with her. She’s bound to be here any minute now.

Red. 

A color of blood, a color of energy, power, fire. A color you wouldn’t find trendy in Stanley’s wardrobe or hers, either. It was a strong color, or even perverse, neither of them liked it. But, she had seen this in a shop for a good price, and decided to take it. An impulsive decision, you might say, but a good one.

The dancefloor and the whole hall, turn to look at her. Someone flashes a spotlight on the door when she walks in, to which she blushes a terribly deep red shade. No one can look away, she was purely sparkling and attracting all attention from boys who had never before looked in her direction. Many approach her, leaving their own dates or their friends, asking her for a dance or to be her date for this night.

But she’s walking straight across the hall towards the boy who has been waiting for her the last fifteen minutes. The boy she’d never give up for anything. The boy who’d always wait for her.

But the count of time went out the window the moment he saw her. She is most definitely more than beautiful. She’s breathtaking. She’s mesmerizing. Completely hypnotising. And it’s not only because of the color or shape of her dress, or the hairstyle, or her glittery make-up. It’s only her that is shining, in her own way. 

Her hair’s a half-up, half-down, her favorite kind. It’s cute and practical that way - you don’t have hair getting into your eyes, but they’re still flowing down your shoulders. She pulls out an extra strand before finally approaching Stanley, just because she always does so. She doesn’t like picture-perfect hairstyles or picture-perfect anything, and she tends to purposely mess up her own perfect hairstyles.

“This dress is, after all, a crazy idea.” She speaks to him once their eyes meet. She’s standing right in front of him, half a foot between them at best, and they both smile. Stanley’s smile cracks wide across his face. 

“You look amazing.” Stanley tells her. “Wanna dance?” Stanley extends his elbow to her. Their love is as simple as this. No excess words, no tensed-up silences, everything’s easy and flowing between them.

She nods and takes his extended arm, linking theirs together. They turn to the dancefloor and head in its direction. Somehow, the only available space on it is in the center. Stanley sighs, but they both settle for this space. Seems as though it was cleared out just for them, the shining couple of the evening. 

Stanley faces her once again and takes her waist while she locks her hands behind his neck. They start to sway, best as they can, to the slow song the DJ plays. She looks into Stanley’s eyes and he looks down at her, though not as low as he usually has to. The girl’s wearing heels. She’s uncomfortable in those, but it’s prom. So, the smaller the heel, the better. 

“I’ve never seen you shine this bright.” Stanley tells her. The look in his eyes show perfectly what he feels in his heart. He’s never had such an intense feeling for her, this feeling of complete and utter love. His brown eyes are almost full of this fog, and Stanley doesn’t mind it. 

She smiles bright and her eyes twinkle from the smile. 

“I can’t believe I’m actually dancing with you.” He tells her then, and it makes her laugh. Her forehead gently touches his chest when she does, her head tipping down. “It’s true. I hardly know this beauty in front of me.”

“Stan, stop!” She silently protests, looking up at him. “You’re so gorgeous. And I’m just… Well, I’m in red tonight.”

“The lady in red.” Stanley states, and she nods. “Alright, we’re both gorgeous tonight. But you out me in every way.” He finalises. 

She suddenly leans up and kisses his lips. It does take him by pleasant surprise, but he only smiles. She wants him to shut up and can’t, for the life of her, say it with words. This seems a much more practical and better option to Stanley. 

“Have you seen our friends?” She asks and glances around them.

“They haven’t gotten here yet.” Stanley informs her. He feels the remnants of her lipgloss on his own lips, pressing the two pilgrims against each other.

“They’ve always been late.” She states and sighs. Her head rests finally on Stanley’s chest when she steps closer to him. Hearing his heartbeat comforts her, and makes her forget that everyone’s looking at them. “I hope Richie will bring Eddie as his date.” 

“Has he asked him already?”

“Well, it’d be right about time. I’m so tired of them not… getting everything out already!” She admits. Stanley glances down at her for a second, and smiles.

“Like we did?” He asks her. She nods, he feels it against his chest. “How do you know it’ll turn out well? Maybe they’ll be even more annoying than they are now.”

She laughs. “Then I’ll move out of here.” 

“We’ll move out.” Stanley corrects her and she nods again. She pulls herself off Stanley’s chest when a faster song starts to play and they look at each other. “I’m getting my university letter on Monday.” He says.

She nods. “I think mine will come then, too.” She admits. She moves a fallen curl of his hair back into its place. No matter if it bounces right back out. She just moves it back until it sticks, which makes Stanley laugh. “How did you sleep?” She asks him. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay. Mom found out.”

“You already told me, I remember.” He tells her. “It was better tonight. I read my book, you know the one, and I could fall asleep easier.” 

She smiles. He took her advice. 

“But it was lonely without you.” He admits and as if to prove his point, Stanley’s hands grow tighter around Y/N’s waist. She smiles at him. 

“We have the whole summer.” She assures and Stanley nods, aware of the stated fact. “What do I have to do for you to dream about me instead?” She almost whispers. The question is intimate and sacred, not something for other people to hear. 

Stanley looks at her for a long time, just looks at her, nothing more. He’s not trying to memorise how she looks, he’s not savoring the moment, he’s not really thinking, either. He just watches her. 

“I don’t know.” He whispers. “Sad to say, but maybe my fears are bigger than what I feel for you. I wish it wasn’t true.” He admits, then. 

“I understand.” She nods. “Don’t feel bad. God knows I know how it is.” She says and they both share a chuckle. “I wish I knew how to help.” She admits to him, and feels a little helpless.

Stanley nods. “We’ll get over it together.” He tells her and puts on his bravest smile. Her fingers pass over the white patch on his left cheek and her mind goes over the memory of the incident again. Stanley’s screams and tears, and the blood running down his face, his horrid, stubborn panic. She almost sheds a tear remembering it. “Let’s not think about that tonight.” Stanley tells her and takes her hands away from his cheeks. He can read her eyes so well.

His thumbs massage the insides of her palms slowly, gently. She nods, deciding it really would be the best option. “Let’s dance the night away!” She decides and, still holding Stanley’s hand, does a twirl away from him, but he pulls her right back into him.

And so they did.


	23. Fast Car

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teen! Stanley Uris x Reader
> 
> Request: A late teens/young adult Stanley x fem!reader based on the song Fast Car by Tracy Chapman would just about kill me right now. Your the only one I know who would do wonders with this idea if you have the time and inspiration for it :) 
> 
> A/N: BONJOUR ladies and gents and folks :) I miss Stanley and I miss Wyatt so I wanted to write something teen!stan. Hope this meets your standards, I hope this is good since I have quite a wide range in which I can explore and write about. I’m using the first half of the lyrics. I’ve realised this song sounds like another story I started in autumn… hmm… This might be short, dk yet. Ya, lmao, this ain’t gon be short. Writing this + listening to my stan playlist really gave me deja-vu omfg. Happy reading!

Things, multiple things, had lead you to right this moment. Ideas. Choices. Yours. His. You smile, glancing at him with half-lidded eyes. Him. But you aren’t regretting the choices you made to be here, you don’t ever want to regret them. These are the choices that will make your life what you want it to be. You will be who you want to be. You will be someone.

If this would be a newspaper or tabloid story, they’d say you left because of your ‘poor family state’ or leaving (they’d form it 'dropping out’) school. You’d only laugh at them. Those aren’t the only reasons, but no one needs to know that. It doesn’t matter. You’re gone now, and that’s that. No one left to miss you, well, family-wise. Friend-wise, though…

You and Stanley decided to leave on a normal day without telling anyone. Not even your friends. That was probably your only regret. And yet, they’d only come after you or want to come with you. But, no offense to them, you and Stan wanted to go alone. You needed to. You could survive with only each other. And a bit of cash, granted. 

The way you love each other is truthful, and loyal, but both without speaking it. Your love is silent, but it can be felt in the air that you breathe, seen in the looks that you share and the touches you give each other. There’s no need to speak of it, cause you express your love in other ways. Your love for each other was born pure, arguably because you were best friends. Ah, but you still are. There’s really nothing changed with the fact that you’re a couple in the matters of the town public or whatever.

It happened naturally, but out of the blue. It was like one night Stanley had kissed you goodnight when going home as if he’d done it a million times. You still are best friends, very good, trusting best friends, and nothing’s different except you’re kissing and doing other intimate things. But they feel ever so natural. Anything with Stanley comes as natural as breathing. 

When you dropped out of school to help your father with his bottle condition and his health, Stanley brought studying materials to your place and still provided you with a sort-of tutoring that you could use. You don’t have a certificate for a finished high school education, but you don’t care. You don’t need a paper to achieve something, you have the needed knowledge in your head.

On a late summer night, you and Stanley were driving from a fair that had come to Derry, you were both in his car. Stanley was swerving his 16th birthday gift car through Derry streets out of pure crave for fun in empty town streets. And you got an idea.

“You have a fast car,” you started to say. Stanley laughed.

“Pardon?” He asked then, quickly glancing at you and then back out the windshield to see where he’s driving. 

“You have a fast car,” you began again, “I’ve got a job.”

“Alright,” you had picked Stanley’s interest, “what else?”

“We wanna get out.” You said, and your eyes had drifted away already, somewhere far in your dreams, or looking into your future. “We wanna be somewhere else, become people somewhere else.” You turned your head to look at Stanley now. He returned the look, but his was one of wonder. He’s definitely deeply interested in what you want to tell him, what you want to pitch in. “Let’s get out.”

He’d stopped the car and kissed you then. Just because he could, and because he wanted to. Stanley loves when you’re enthusiastic and when you’re pulsing with your dreams, it entices him. You inspire him. And he caught onto your idea, driving you both to the convenience store you worked at to get a notebook and some pens and pencils. The hammering of his heart was shaking and warming his Star of David necklace that rested over his chest. He was excited, and he was nervous.

A plan was constructed in less than an hour, and though you had decided to wait until fall/mid-fall to carry out this grand plan, you both were ecstatic and ready to go right now. But you needed to save some more cash, think of what you’d leave your parents when you go and, most of all, how you’ll make your leave unnoticeable. You wanted to leave without saying anything, without making a big scene or having a 'i’m leaving’ talk with your parents or anyone else. You had to figure out how to take what you need without your rooms looking different. Frankly, the plan was made, but you still had a lot to think about.

“And what do we do when we get out?” Stanley asked you, turning his head to you as you both lay on your tummies in the grass. He wasn’t really asking for an answer. He knew you had a plan, and that you’d both, susceptive teenagers with great organising skills and impressive academic (and not) knowledge, find the best way to live in a place you don’t know. He didn’t even know why he asked you that question, perhaps it was just a wondering thought spoken out loud or a rhetorical question. But you had an answer, anyway, whether he wanted it or not.

You smiled at Stanley with certainty and love. “It would be a little tough at first. Living in a motel, buying food every day and starting a real job–both of us.” You said then and returned to your notebook. “But we have each other. And we’d finally see what it means to be living, you know?”

Stanley hummed. He liked the sound of that. Life’s never been easy for either of you, so having a few complications at first to build the life you both wanted wouldn’t be anything Stanley or you aren’t used to. “Growing up here definitely has not taught us that.” He admitted, and then a realisation crossed his mind. One that was not so soothing, one that didn’t leave as soon as it’d come. You could feel him sort of stiffening up next to you, so you turned to look.

Watching his face and his eyes, noticing how his Star of David necklace hung low around his neck and had started to swing around due to Stanley’s heart rate picking up, you recognised what he was feeling. “I’m scared, too.” You said to him and squeezed his trembling hand. Stanley looked at you, thankful for your words, and not at all surprised, for you’d both learned to read the other’s minds and eyes since your early days. Stanley then nodded, knowing what you’d say next.

“We’ve got each other.” He said. And you nodded, then placed a kiss on his cheek and stayed laying close to the boy. His trembling stopped at some point. 

By summer’s end, you’d both written the little notes you were gonna leave for your families. They were truly little, and they were white lies, as well. Neither of you liked lying, but this was a start to securing a safe, new life. Yours was 'Going shopping with Stanley, will take long because he’s got a long list of things to buy. Here’s some money if you’re hungry.’ And Stanley’s was 'I’m taking Y/N with me to do some school shopping. See you at dinner.' 

It was a little hard for him to write his note. Leaving his parents, however their true characters were, was quite a milestone. Just because he didn’t have a true connection with them didn’t mean it was just as easy to breathe as to leave them out of the blue. Yours was easier to write. Somehow, being in the same situation as Stanley whereas you didn’t have a strong to your one parent, it was just lighter, less weight to come with the note you wrote and the actions that followed it. 

The money for being hungry wasn’t just some ten or twenty dollars. It was quite some cash for your father to live on for a while. You had picked up more shifts at your job to save money for yourself and some to leave to your father. Your boss was ecstatic, awarded you with employée of the month and cheered you on anytime she saw you. She didn’t know that her best employée would be gone without a trace before the winter came.

You decided to take some portion of your clothes, your few favorite books, some school books, notebooks, cassettes, shoes, pictures you’d taken with your friends… And then you got a little sentimental. A tear struck your eye as you looked upon the photo-booth faces and realised you’d be leaving them, probably, forever. But you were quick to distract yourself, and picked up a blanket and pillow next, then some beauty things, and you were done with packing. On the verge of tears, you sat on your bed in the middle of the night and tried not to cry. 

Seemed you’d taken all your favorite things, the things that are significantly yours only. But as your father only spends time in his room and the bathroom, there was no worrying about him finding any differences. The last time he had looked into your room was probably when your mother left, which was way before puberty really hit and changed you, therefore, your interests and favorite colors and sense of style and interior. You would truly become a ghost story once you’d leave.

Stanley was careful, though. His mother cleaned his room once a week, not really always by his consent, but she did it anyway, and so she knew about every placement of every single thing and could count it to you if you woke her up in the night and asked her. So he had started to prepare early. He’d put away the things (mostly his favorites, too) he’d take with him in a box under his bed that said 'Time Capsule’. His mother had found it, though, and smiled. Stanley had made Time Capsules since he was a little kid, ever since he’d heard of such a thing. Nostalgia and sentiment could describe him well. This Time Capsule had his checkered button ups, graphic tees gifted by Richie, photos of his friends, some of his smallest ornithology books and other smaller, not-qualified things.

The day of your leave you both ate breakfast at your houses, like you’d always do. Stanley and you tried your best to keep your old selves in touch with reality, so your folks wouldn’t suspect anything or ask any questions. Stanley was really nervous and his hands were shaking now and then, and he hoped to the highest powers that his parents wouldn’t notice. He hid them under the table and then, once calmed down, continued devouring his breakfast. 

You put your father to sleep for his post-breakfast nap, taken your two bags, left the note and money in the envelope (hoping he wouldn’t spend all the cash on booze) on the kitchen table and went out of the door. You closed the front door and locked it twice. Such natural, mundane sounds that you and probably every bug, bird and bee in your front lawn had grown used to hearing over these years of living with only your father. You had closed your eyes, sighed and then turned around. And there was Stanley, already waiting, in his car. 

He’d left his note on the entrance hall chest for his parents to read when they came home from the market. Stanley had also walked around his house completely alone for the last time. And he sighed when he last looked at his bedroom and also when he stepped into the living room. He was gonna miss those rooms. The memories they held were not all pleasant, but Stanley decided he’d only miss the really pleasant ones. And those were hard letting go of.

Now, it’s a dark, windy, but warm summer night. You’re finally in Stanley’s car, finally on your way, finally and already out of the state of Maine. He’s rolled both the front windows down, wind is blowing through, making a small draft and pushing both of your hair in all directions. You are both smiling, and smiling very wide. One of your cassettes is playing, creating the perfect mood and mindset. 

You sing along to the words, and laugh and share eye contact in certain parts special to you. Stanley’s arm is around your shoulder, but you pull away to lean out of the window. Your arm slaps onto the car door to support your head and shoulders that are leaning out of the window. You see a seemingly endless highway lined with lights on each side, and city lights somewhere far ahead of you. Stanley is driving so fast you feel like you’re drunk, even though you’ve never known what that feels like before. Both your heads are spinning with the excitement of what’s to come and also spinning because of Stanley’s fast driving. 

It feels like you’re never gonna stop driving, and that thought feels good. You do never want to stop. You want the rest of your days to feel this exciting. And when you look back at Stanley with the hint of a smile on your lips, he knows your desires. He sees the plans you’ve made for the pair of you in your confident, knowing eyes. You both nod at each other, and smile wider because you do it at once. And you know. You know that this is where and who you belong. You are going to be someone.


End file.
